


In What Universe

by Hallianna, SpectreAntiHero (orphan_account)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Crossover, Character Death, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossover romance, F/M, Gen, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:43:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallianna/pseuds/Hallianna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/SpectreAntiHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NOTE:  This fic is unfinished and no further updates will occur.</p><p>In the middle of a war, with so much at stake, the last thing Shepard needs is word that the Illusive Man and Cerberus might have another weapon - something that could control the Reapers.  What starts as raids on Cerberus bases to swipe Reaper tech turns into a hunt for this weapon.  But it isn't some technology or Reaper code the Illusive Man has stolen - it's a woman, a human woman from a different universe, and he thinks she's the key to controlling the Reapers. This woman could be anyone, dangerous, unpredictable, a threat....</p><p>What she doesn't expect is a fireball slinging mage from a world only known in fairy tales. But Hawke and Shepard eventually realize that they're going to have to work together if they're going to stop the Reapers, even if Hawke might be as dangerous as their enemies. (Please see the notes at the beginning of Chapter 1 for more information.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Mass Effect/Dragon Age II crossover meant to make you laugh, gasp, maybe cry a little, and hope for a happy ending. Pairings: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian (established); Female Hawke/Varric Tethras (eventually), other random flirtations amongst party members.
> 
> This began as an idea between SpectreAntiHero and myself - one, to see if we could really mesh our two favorite video game worlds, and two, to puzzle out the intricacies of such a storyline with two very strong female protagonists. Especially these two, who are very different characters but still fight the good fight. SpectreAntiHero threw her Hawke (Zoey Hawke, sarcastic redhead with a penchant for wisecracking her way out of situations) into the mix and I tossed in my Shepard (Joanna Shepard, Spacer, Vanguard, known for her ruthless tactics in battle and her quick temper off the battlefield) and away we went. Spectre had to leave the project but gave it, and her blessing, to me to continue the story, so here we are. I did wind up putting a bit of my own Hawke in with hers, though they are enough alike in personality that it's a nice hybrid mix, an homage of sorts to the original idea.

“So that’s the human protocol on reunions.”

Shepard rolled over and pressed herself next to Garrus.  “I hope that’s a compliment and not a complaint.”

He traced a talon over a slightly reddened mark on her inner thigh.  “It was an observation, a compliment, and the only thing I could say in the moment.  I think you divested me of some brain cells, Shepard.”

She laughed at that, leaning in to press a kiss to his mouth.  “I have missed you, Garrus.”

Garrus pulled her close when she tried to shift away to grab at the blankets.  “Nope, you’re not going anywhere.”  At her noise of protest, he reached over her, grabbed the bedsheet and tugged it over both of them.  “I’m warm enough for us both, Shepard.”  He wrapped long arms around her and she settled beside him, throwing a leg over his.  His voice was dark as he said, “I’m not letting you go again.”

Shepard pulled her head up to look at him, her dark brows knitting together.  “Garrus, I-”

He waved a hand at her.  “Don’t.  Just....you and me, we’re a team, for good or ill.”  He raked a talon through her hair.  “I love you, Shepard.  I can’t help it.”

His honesty was rewarded with one of her rare smiles.  “Will it make me sound like a sap if I said I love you too?”

He shook his head slightly.  “But just in case you’re worried, I won’t tell the rest of the crew.  We wouldn’t want to damage your reputation as a badass.  Can’t have the notorious Commander Joanna Shepard in love.”

His words were teasing but she heard the pain behind them, as though he didn’t believe her confession.  Truth was, she did love him and it drove her mad.  Love was dependency and if the universe had taught her nothing it else, it was to be dependent on no one but yourself and expect the worse. The people you cared about could be there one day, dead the next from a bullet to the brain or because of a call you had to make.

And then there was him. Garrus. He was the one element in her life that didn’t fit neatly.  He had come along with his turian swagger and his damn fine aim and his easy humor and won her over from the beginning.  They’d been friends almost from the get-go; he made her laugh, had her back, had a good sense of justice and didn’t mind getting his hands dirty.  His naivete wore off fairly quickly, and Omega had done something interesting to his sense of humor that she appreciated.  And then one day she found herself admiring that swagger from the rear and it took her a moment to realize she had been staring.  But she wasn’t surprised, she’d always recognized the attractiveness of other species.  It certainly made diplomacy easier.

But with Garrus, it had never been about blowing off steam.  He meant more than that to her.  It hadn’t been easy for her to understand in the beginning, after their first night (when he’d pushed her up against the wall and taken her the way she’d asked - _Make me feel alive, Garrus.  I might be dead tomorrow.  Make me feel it._ ).  But being locked away for a few long months by the Alliance with nothing but her memories and a lot of time on her hands only solidified what she'd already suspected.

Seeing him on Menae had left her dizzy and weak.  She had hoped her handshake had spoken the volume of her heart in that moment.  The way his eyes had flared at her touch almost broke her resolve. But it was when he'd put his other hand on top of hers for a few brief moments that had told her yes, he'd missed her just as much and he knew what she was trying to silently convey.

Shepard moved up his body a little so they were eye level, letting her look at him dead on before she replied evenly, “Garrus, I’m only going to say this once, so listen up.  I don’t give out sentiment easily, nor do I just throw my emotions around for everyone to see because that’s not who I am.  That’s not who the galaxy expects me to be.”  She put a hand on his neck and gently traced over the sensitive hide there, making him shiver.  Their eyes were still locked on each other; hers intense, his searching.  “But here, now?  I give you everything I have, and sometimes it may not be what you expect, or it may not be enough.  But I mean every word of it, every time.”  Her fingers traced the scars on his mandible and she sighed.  “This still gives me nightmares.  I wish I could have stopped it, could have been faster, pushed you out of the way sooner.”  The slight glistening of her eyes and the gentle finger she placed on his mouth stopped him from speaking.  “I love you, Garrus Vakarian.  Never, ever question that.”  
  
 

* * *

  
"Admiral Hackett is signaling us, Commander. EDI is trying to clear up the feed now, he should be available in a few minutes.

Shepard spun in her chair, forcing her eyes away from the sight of six plus feet of warm, naked turian in her bed and sighed. _This is just the beginning. The Reapers mean to annihilate us all. I can't let that happen_ , she thought before responding to Traynor. "I'll be down, Traynor, thanks."

She stood and stretched then moved back to the bed. She didn't want to disturb him but after their conversation (and the ensuing makeup session), it was important to her that he didn't awaken to find the bed empty. "Hey, big guy," she whispered, leaning down close. Garrus grunted and grabbed vaguely in her direction, eyes still closed tight. The way his face contorted in disappointment when he grabbed empty air made her laugh. "Hackett is trying to get through to us, I have to go take the call. Will you still be here when I get back?"

That made his eyes pop open. Without his visor, they seemed more blue, more intense.  One taloned hand grabbed hers before he said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere, Shepard. Let me know what Hackett has to say."

She closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, making him sigh.  "Shouldn't be long."

He waited until she was halfway across the room before saying. "You better not be. I might get lonely. And my hand doesn't look or feel as good as yours wrapped around my-"

The saucy look she shot him was immediately followed by a pillow from the couch. He had to sit up to catch it before it landed on his well-used, yet to be mentioned nether region, and this movement made the blankets drop away.

Shepard just smirked, which made Garrus shake his head and laugh. That laugh was a wordless promise that sounded in her ears even as she stepped onto the elevator.

Traynor saluted her smartly as soon as she stepped off the elevator and Shepard nodded in acknowledgment. "EDI, while I've got a channel open with Hackett, see if you can raise Anderson. The last call we had from him got cut off and we haven't heard anything since."

"Yes, Commander."

Vega appeared at her side as soon as she stepped through the door to the war room.  “Heard Hackett’s on the comm.”  His brow creased as he looked at Shepard.  “Think he’s got any news from Earth?”

Shepard rolled her shoulders as she stopped to peer over the shoulder of one of the men stationed around the room.  “Hard to tell, Vega.  I’ll let you know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  She stepped back to let him pass and he saluted her before moving toward the elevator.  His footsteps paused and Shepard turned back to see him staring at her.  She raised an eyebrow and he said, “Lola, I don’t mean to be out of line here, but do you mind asking Hackett about Anderson?”

That earned him the Shepard equivalent of a smile - a slight upturn of one corner of her mouth.  It still struck her as ironic that Vega insisted on breaking regs by calling her something other than her last name or by her rank, yet he was worried about asking a question about a man they both respected. “Not out of line, Vega.  I’m worried about Anderson too.  The old man has some fight in him but his ass better not get blown to kingdom come down there, or he has to answer to me when we get back to Earth.”  She stepped towards him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “I’ll ask Hackett, but EDI is trying to raise Anderson right now.  With any luck, I’ll get to talk to him while we’ve got Hackett on the line.”

“That works. Thanks," Vega replied, relief evident in his eyes.  He slid out from her grasp, nodded at her, and headed back to the elevator.  Shepard watched him go, not missing the tension between his shoulders.  It was something she recognized - she felt like she carried an invisible weight these days, too.

When Shepard reached the comm room, a ghostly figure was already forming but no sound was coming through.  “EDI, what’s the status on the connection with Hackett?”

“Full connection in thirty seconds, Shepard.”

Shepard leaned against the wall and waited.  It was almost a full minute before Hackett’s image appeared and as soon as she saw him, Shepard straightened and snapped a salute at him.  

Hackett acknowledged her and said in way of greeting, “Shepard, good to see you in one piece.  EDI tells me she’s trying to reach Anderson.  If she gets in touch with him, I’ll be glad for it.  I haven’t been able to get through either and that’s been a concern.” He rubbed a hand over his face, sighed, and continued.  “But that’s not why I signaled you, Commander.  We’ve been getting reports of Cerberus operations scattered throughout different planet systems and we want to you to hit as many of them as you can. I know you’re already bogged down between the turians and the krogans but this is important, Shepard.”

Shepard crossed her arms, fighting to keep her face neutral.  The Illusive Man.  That bastard was clearly working his own scheme and Shepard was more than happy to take down his operations - the bloodier, the better.  “I think I can manage some side missions, Admiral.  Always happy to boil a few Cerberus heads.”

“Glad to hear it.  I’ll send the coordinates along.  But it’s not just because it’s Cerberus that I’m sending you, Shepard.  I know you’ve got a bone to pick with them and they’re doing what they can to muck up our operations, but rumors are swirling that they’ve been getting their hands on Reaper tech.  Any weapons or tech you can pick up from their bases and send along to our scientists can only help while we’re building the Crucible.  Blow their bases sky high, but salvage what you can before setting off your bombs, Shepard."

Shepard opened her mouth to respond but EDI interrupted her.  “Shepard, I’ve managed to reach Admiral Anderson but the signal is not very strong.  You may only have a minute or two with him.”

Anderson’s visage fritzed in and out beside Hackett’s for a moment before wavering slightly, then solidifying.  “Shepard, is that you?”

Shepard let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding when she saw him.  “Anderson, good to hear from you.  I’ve got Hackett on the comm.”

Anderson nodded.  “He’s on my other line.  Admiral, how are things holding up?”

Hackett laughed dryly.  “Better than what you’ve got on Earth, I’m sure, but not by much.”  Shepard watched, fascinated, as Hackett dropped all propriety for a few moments and said to his old friend, “You better keep your head down, David.  We lose you-”

Anderson waved a hand at him.  “I’m not going anywhere, not while these damn Reapers tear my home apart.”  He turned to Shepard, his eyes boring holes in her.  “We’re counting on you, Shepard.  See this thing through, and bring me all the troops from every corner of the galaxy you can.  We’ll win this thing yet.”  

Shepard saluted him.  “Yes sir.”

Anderson snorted.  “Don’t give me that shit, Shepard. You haven’t called me sir in years, don’t start now.”  He smiled slightly at her and she returned it.  “Just get me some goddamn reinforcements.”

Shepard’s mouth set into a grim, determined line before she replied, “You’ll have all the goddamn reinforcements I can find, threaten, or tow behind the Normandy, Anderson.”

An explosion behind him rocked his line and he ducked, hand going to the gun at his side.  “Take care of yourself, Shepard.  Make sure Garrus watches your six.”

And the line went dead.  Hackett turned curious eyes to her and Shepard kept her face impassive as she tried not to remember the very naked turian in her bed, waiting on her.  “I just sent those coordinates to Joker, Commander.  Get us some Reaper tech, and if you find out what the Illusive Man is up to while you’re at it, all the better.  Let me know what you find, Shepard.  I won’t keep you any longer.  Hackett out.”

The sudden silence in the comm room buzzed in Shepard's ears like flies around a light and it made her wince slightly.  She punched a command into the nearby control panel and got ahold of Joker.  “Joker, get all those coordinates Hackett just sent you up on the Galaxy Map.  I want to see these Cerberus holdings, maybe find a pattern in their base layouts.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.”  There was a pause and then, “Hey, Commander, how’s Anderson doing?”

Shepard snorted.  “You know him, Joker.  Right in the thick of things, like always.  I think he’s trying to get back at me for making him Councilor a few years ago.  He hated that job.”

Joker laughed and said, “Well, if he’s making up for lost time, he’s certainly doing a good job of it.”  His tone turned serious as he then said, “You think he’ll be okay down there?”

“It’s Anderson, Joker,” Shepard replied evenly.  “He may be getting on in years but the man can handle a gun.  A few Reapers won’t stop him.”  She stared down at the lights on the panel for a moment before continuing.  She didn’t want to think about Anderson surrounded by husks and Reapers.  “I’ll be up at the CIC in a few, Joker.”

She punched out of that line, pinged her cabin, and added a privacy filter.  Garrus’ smooth vocals filled her ears and she shivered.  He sounded like he was still in bed and still very much waiting on her return.  “How’d it go, Shepard?”

“Anderson’s okay, for now,” she said, dropping into a chair.  “Hackett sent a bunch of coordinates along for Cerberus bases.  He thinks the Illusive Man is up to something involving the Reapers and wants us to swipe any tech or weapons we stumble on before we blow their bases sky high.”

“Oh, Shepard,” he growled, “You do know how to talk dirty to me.  Weapons and tech and explosives?  And getting to take out those Cerberus bastards?  That’s the stuff wet dreams are made of.”

Shepard groaned and leaned back in her chair.  “Don’t get too excited, big guy.  I’ve got to head to the CIC to plot the Cerberus base coordinates before I can come back up.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed in thought  Shepard knew that sound - he was thinking, or as she liked to joke, _calibrating_ , and it sometimes was to her benefit, other times to his.  Before her chain of thought could continue, he said, “I tell you what, Shepard.  I can’t lay here all day waiting on you, but I’m nowhere near finished with you either.”  Her omnitool suddenly lit up, lights pulsing and flashing in a dizzying array.  “I’ve set your inner ear comm to a private channel, just for us.”  The omnitool stopped flashing and suddenly his voice was in her ear.  A rush of warmth flooded her as his voice came over the comm, just like it would if he were right there with her, talking in her ear.

 _Garrus, you dirty bastard_ , she thought as she stood, feeling slightly off balance.

“So your plan is to chat at me while I’m trying to plan our next move?” she asked, trying to cover up the tremor in her voice with her trademark cockiness.

He chuckled, the sound low and filthy, its dangerous edge flushing her system with adrenaline and lust. “If by chat at you, you mean say nothing but dirty little things in your ear the entire time, then yes.”

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered before heading out of the comm room.  “You are just evil.”

“You love it.”

Shepard sighed and worked her way across the war room, nodding to Primarch Victus. _Keep your face impassive, your gait normal, your back straight_ , she thought.  If anyone noticed that anything was off, it would be the Primarch or Traynor.  She made it all the way across the war room, through the scanner and to the CIC with no outward signs of trouble and all the while, Garrus was whispering naughty suggestions in her ear, making her blood heat and her fists clench at her side. 

When she didn’t respond with so much as a whimper, he turned up it a notch.  Shepard was grateful for the railing in front of the Galaxy Map when he started at it again, earning her a curious look from Traynor.

By the time she had a course plotted to the nearest Cerberus base and was on her way to the lowest level of the ship to get into her armor,  Garrus had all but left her weak-kneed and dry mouthed.  She collapsed in the elevator and let out a string of curses that would shock Vega.  Garrus just laughed and said, “Ready to go kick some Cerberus ass, Shepard? I get the feeling you have some frustrations you need to vent.”

"Get your ass down here, Garrus. You're coming with me on this," Shepard growled fiercely into her comm.  Garrus replied with a barely stifled laugh before he acknowledged her command and her comm went mercifully silent. The elevator slowed and she punched its unforgiving metal wall once before she stomped onto the cargo bay.  Her damn boyfriend was a fiend.  She pointed at Vega and snapped, "Suit up. We're hitting a Cerberus base in forty. Bring the biggest guns you've got."

Vega didn't hesitate for one second, immediately leaving his workbench to start prepping his armor.  Shepard paced the length of the bay, eyes scanning every piece of equipment they had on hand. If they were hitting Cerberus holdings, she wanted to be prepared.

"Cortez," she called out, "how's the shuttle fairing after our little incident on Mars? The one where Vega crash-landed her into a bunch of crates?"

Cortez poked his head around the corner of the shuttle's thrusters, welding helmet pushed high on his head and grinned. "Better than ever, Commander, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, Esteban has a real knack for fixing what I break," Vega joked from the weapons lockers.

"Good to hear," Shepard replied, directing the comment at Cortez while raising an eyebrow at Vega. Vega just chuckled and told her she needed a good fight.

"You know, Vega, you're the second person to tell her that today," Garrus said smoothly as he stepped off the elevator, sniper rifle in hand. "I think she looks a little jumpy, don't you?"

Shepard aimed a death glare at him and he had to choke down a laugh. He was okay with laughing in her ear over a comm or teasing her in her quarters but he kept the worst of it in check around the crew. Everyone on the ship knew they were together but he didn't want to usurp her authority by making anyone else think he got any kind of special privileges just because he was the commander's....

Well, what was he? What were they?

He didn't have a chance to answer his own question because Shepard was motioning to he and Vega.  "Mission brief," she said as she started to pull her armor on. Her crew followed suit, valves and latches being checked as each piece was put on and secured. Cortez was starting to put the shuttle through mission prep paces so Shepard had to speak up to be heard over the whine of the engine.   

"We're hitting the first of several Cerberus bases Admiral Hackett has sent us coordinates to. We're to get in, wipe the place clean of all troops, salvage any weapons or tech we can, since rumor is that they're hoarding Reaper tech, and bomb these facilities. Cortez will take us down in the shuttle and remain nearby whenever possible for transport back when the mission is finished." She turned to Vega. "You're in charge of the explosives on these missions, Lieutenant, so when we hit these bases, you will always be on point with me."

Vega nodded, grinning. "I'm the bomb guy, got it." He leaned close, that grin widening.  "Just admit it, Lola. You can't be without me."

Shepard rolled her eyes but a small smile broke her stony countenance. Garrus had teased and tormented her mercilessly for damn near twenty minutes, and it had done something to her sense of humor. Goddamn it, it had brought it to the surface. If she couldn't satiate her lust, she sure as hell was going to find another outlet for all these emotions frazzling her nerves. Vega was her first target; second round would be the Cerberus troops. Third and final round, the tiebreaker, would be in her cabin later, just her and Garrus.  "Damn, Vega, you figured me out. What will I do now? How can I keep my love for you a secret any longer?" She threw her arms wide open. "Take me, Vega, take me now."

That broke Garrus's resolve. He let out a bark of laughter, turning his face away when he saw the look of utter befuddlement on Vega's face as the soldier put both hands in front of him like a line of defense. Shepard stared at him, a challenge in her eyes, making Vega stutter a few times while he pulled on his greaves.  He finally grinned sheepishly, saying, "Aw, you know me, Lola, I'm all talk. Besides, I know you and Scars are a item. I ain't gettin' in the way of that."

"Like you could," Garrus said, not bothering to keep the growl out of his voice. Vega just shook his head, saying he had no interest in doing so, to which Garrus replied, "I know that, I'm just giving you shit, Vega. Welcome to the team."

 


	2. Chapter 2

"On our right!" Garrus called out over the comm.

"Got it!"

Shepard launched a biotic charge around her post.  The resulting explosion rocked a pile of crates and sent several Cerberus troops flying in an impressive shower of debris and shrapnel. Screams filled the air and Shepard couldn't suppress her grin. _Bastards_. She popped her head over the box she was taking refuge behind, and fired her Avenger at the few troops still twitching on the ground.  Better safe than dead.

They were inside the base, clearing swaths through the Cerberus troops who had come at them the moment they'd landed.  She and Garrus were covering Vega while he finished placing the charges around support beams. They hadn't seen any tech or weapons beyond the stock supplies Cerberus issued its troops, so Shepard was suspicious. Something wasn't right here. They'd scanned a few datapads and computers and sent the info back to Liara, but nothing damning or truly useful had been pried from the files.

Six shock troopers came at them from the west and she motioned to Garrus, a two-fingered gesture he knew immediately from years of working with her on the battlefield. "All mine? You shouldn't have."

The recoil of his sniper rifle sounded in her ears as he expertly picked off the small group in record time. Even Shepard was impressed as she glanced over her shoulder - all head shots, dead between the eyes. "Damn, Garrus."

He hopped down from his makeshift sniper's nest about forty paces behind her and shrugged. "What can I say? They made it easy, marching in formation like that. I do love a tight formation, Shepard."

"Okay, seriously," Vega's voice came over the comm, "I'm trying to wire a bomb back here and you guys are talking all.... kinda dirty like that?  Can you wait ten seconds for me to not have my hands near a twenty pound explosive?"

Garrus chuckled.  " I don't recall saying anything dirty, do you, Commander?"

He turned up his twin larynx rumble on her proper title, making her glare at him through her N7 helmet.  But she just shrugged and said, " I didn't hear anything improper, Lieutenant. You know I don't stand for that malarkey on my crew or my ship."

Vega twisted a couple of wires and snapped a cover into place. "Ha, yeah sure. Whatever you say....Lola."

Shepard let Garrus take watch while she helped Vega finish putting together the final charge.  That done, they carefully headed back to the landing zone, eyes scanning the perimeter for Cerberus reinforcements. They hit the main doors with no issues and Shepard opened her mouth to call Cortez in when a flash of light, just to the right of her peripheral vision, made her turn around.

Hackles raised, she signaled Vega and Garrus to follow. A computer terminal, no different from the rest of the banks they had inspected in the base, stood alone in a darkened corner. The computer was dark save for one orange light on the keyboard.

"Huh, that's...weird," Vega said, leaning down to get a closer look.

"Agreed," Garrus said. "Shepard, you might want to scan that before messing around on it, could be rigged to explode."

Shepard scoffed but acquiesced, running her omnitool over the terminal.  "Anything, EDI?", she asked after a few moments, shifting impatiently from foot to foot.

"Everything appears to be normal, Shepard. Accessing the files now." The terminal screen lit up, bathing them in orange light. Information streamed across the screen, too much for them to take in, but EDI was cataloging it all.

After a few moments, Shepard was ready to walk away when Garrus stopped her. "Shit," he said quietly, putting a hand on her arm and forcing her to turn her attention back to the terminal. He tapped the screen and brought up the file that had caught his eye. She and Vega leaned in, the words _massive weapon_ , _untapped amount of power_ , and _potential to control the Reapers_ catching their attention.

Vega whistled slowly.  “Whatever that is, if Cerberus gets their hands on it, we could wind up fighting two wars, Commander.”

Shepard felt her gut tighten as she skimmed the information on the screen.  It wasn’t nearly enough to go on, the details kept at a bare minimum - she didn’t even have a project name, but it was a start.  References were made to a weapon so powerful that Cerberus could use it to control the Reapers, but from what she could tell, they didn’t have it yet.  She also didn’t know what this weapon was, where it was located, or where Cerberus had gotten its information from.

“Looks like the Illusive Man has been busy,” Garrus said quietly.  “This is bad, Shepard.  We need to find out more.”

“Goddamn right,” Vega said, pounding the terminal with his fist.  “Anything we can steal out from underneath that bastard is a win for us.”

“I advise caution in this matter,” EDI said over their comms.  “We already have one weapon with unknown capabilities and firepower.  If this information is correct, we could be dealing with a similar or completely different situation from the Crucible.  More information is needed, Shepard.”

The terminal blinked, then shut down as EDI completed her scan.  Shepard motioned Vega and Garrus forward toward the landing zone and said, “Then we’ll get more.  Alert Admiral Hackett to what we found, EDI.  We’re going on more Cerberus base raids, as many as we can fit in between dealing with the krogans and the situation on Palaven.”

She radioed Cortez for pickup and when he arrived, they headed out.  The minute they hit atmo, Vega’s itchy trigger finger got the better of him.  The explosion took out the entire base, lighting up the horizon as Shepard watched through the shuttle’s window.

She let her head clunk against the window and a few seconds later, the familiar feeling of blunted talons in her hair had her smiling slightly.  “We’ll get this figured out, Shepard.”

“I should have found him and shot him before I turned myself into the Alliance.”

Garrus tutted at her.  “Now, Shepard, what fun would that have been?  You’re a multitasker.  If you’re not doing fifty things at once, you’re not happy.”  She stifled a laugh and pulled her head up to meet his very serious expression.  “But honestly, if he has a weapon we can use in this fight, I say we find out what it is and get to it before he does.  Or, if worse comes to worse, we steal it from him.  We may need Kasumi for that. 

Shepard winced slightly.  “I already sent her on to help with the Crucible.  I doubt she’ll want to leave so she can fight Cerberus.”

“Even to help steal highly valuable weapons?  Maybe you should ask her really nicely, Shepard.  Turn on that charm I know you have.”

Vega raised an eyebrow at that.  He’d been trying not to watch the Commander and Scars sitting closely together but it was tough.  He hadn’t understood their relationship at first but after seeing them interact a few times together, it made sense.  He had her back, she had his, plus….they had a look about them, together.  “Wait, Lola charming?  Tough, sure.  She handed me my own ass a few weeks ago in the shuttle bay when we were sparring.  And I admit, she’s got a sense of humor, but charm?  Come on, Scars, you’re pulling my leg there.”

Shepard swiveled her head and pinned him with a glare, but Garrus put a hand on her leg to keep her from killing her Lieutenant.  “Well, James, the only thing I can say to that is that you haven’t been around Shepard long enough to have seen her, uh, softer side.”

Vega hissed between his teeth at the turian's slip at the same time Shepard threw a punch at Garrus’s shoulder, which he neatly blocked.  “Softer side?” she said, opting to aim a punch at his ribs instead.  He slid down the bench and just shook his head at her. “You’re paying for that later, Garrus.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, voice dropping into a lower register he knew she typically appreciated.  Now, it just riled her up more.  Shepard pushed herself up from her seat and went to hassle Cortez, who had overheard the entire conversation and had stayed silent.  His inner mirth, however, was at a maximum level and he had to fight to keep his shoulders from shaking.

Fifteen minutes later, Shepard watched as Cortez expertly docked the shuttle on the Normandy’s lowest level.  Her mind was buzzing - the Illusive Man, another big-time weapon, controlling the Reapers.  The insanity of it all made her want to throw something, shoot someone….

Fists clenched, she stomped off the shuttle, unaware that her biotics were charged until Garrus’s hand on her shoulder made her whip around.  A line of latent energy sent some crates flying, startling a shuttle tech.  

“Shit,” Shepard said before calling out an apology to the shaken sargeant

“I was going to ask if you needed to rest,” he said, coming around to face her, “but now I’m thinking that what you really need is another good battle.”  One of his eyebrow plates shifted high, giving him a debonair expression.  “Your cabin, Commander?”

Her hard shove into the elevator gave him his answer.


	3. Chapter 3

The first things Hawke saw when she awoke was a room with four white walls and a gray haired man sitting in front of her.

“Good, you’re awake,” he said as he crossed one leg over the other.  “I was starting to think the shock of the transition may have been too much on you.”  He lifted a cigarette to his lips, sucked in a hazy breath full of acrid smelling smoke, and let it loose into the space near her.  Hawke blinked as the smoke stung her eyes, grateful that she could at least move her eyes.  It had become quickly apparent that the rest of her body was incapable of any movement.  

While that may have worried Hawke a few years ago, when she still wasn’t used to the world’s cruel sense of irony and wicked left hook, now it just annoyed her.  Add to the fact that she had no bloody idea who this overdressed, blindingly blue-eyed stranger was sitting across from her blowing smoke at her face and she was really riled up.  Hawke shot him a rueful smile, the one Varric said she only gave when she wanted people to drop their weapons or their trousers, and racked her memory for any thread to grasp onto to give her a clue as to how she got here.

“If you’re looking for your memories, we didn’t take those away,” the stranger said, smiling a little.  “You still have everything you did before we got to you, except your clothes and your staff.  And your friends, of course.”

For the first time since she woke up, Hawke felt the icy grip of panic wrap a single finger around her heart and squeeze.  “If you did _anything_ to them,” she started to growl, her voice cracked and dry from lack of use and the chemicals they’d pumped into her after her heart had stopped once they’d pulled her through the portal.  Not that she knew about that last part right then - no, she’d find out about that later once the man in front of her ordered her unbound and a blonde woman dressed in all white gave her clothes and fed her and talked to her about what happened in a sickeningly calm voice.  Then they’d sit her in front of a terminal so she could watch a startling array of images flash in front of her.

_Too much information.  It’s too much._

_Galaxies, stars, planets.  Explosions.  Implosions.  Dark space.  A voice in the dark like the breath of a dragon waiting, watching._

_Battle horns.  Millions of souls, millions of lives over here, millions of souls, millions of lives over there.  Humans.  Turians.  Krograns.  Asari.  Salarians.  Quarians.  Protheans.  Collectors._

_Reapers._

“We didn’t hurt them,” he said, stubbing out the cigarette on the arm of his chair and dropping it into a small can on the floor.  “We only had enough power to pull you through.  You were the goal, Hawke.  Only you.  As much as it would have been to our benefit to have your entire team with us, none of them have the power that you do.  Your power, Hawke, is what we need.  It will change the face of this war we’re fighting.  It will redefine the galaxy, the very fate of the human race.”  

He stood and walked toward her, reaching out a hand to brush her face gently.  Hawke bit her lip to keep from spitting in his face.  “You will be the savior of humanity.  I made a mistake before, you see.  I trusted another human, a warrior like you.  She was honorable, in her own way.  But she betrayed me.  If she hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be in the position we are today.”  

He leaned in close, and Hawke could smell the stench of cigarettes and false hope and a touch of insanity on him.  She knew that smell all too well.  Meredith had smelled like that, minus the cigarettes, before Hawke had driven a sword through her belly.  “But you, Hawke, you will save us all.”

Hawke watched the man nod to an unseen person just over her shoulder and she couldn’t take it any more.  “So are you going to explain why I’m nearly naked and strapped down to this table, and just who the hell you are, or are we going to keep playing games?”  She tried to wipe the anger from her face and give him that same smile from a moment ago, but the heat was too high in her chest and it was threatening to burst forth from her.  She could feel that all too familiar tingle in her hands, the rapid flutter of her heart, the rush and the pounding and the life and then -

Nothing.

No flair, no pulse of magic through her veins and up, up, up to her hands and out into the atmosphere, burning everything it touched, making eyeballs pop and men scream as they found their hair on fire and their minds racked with images of things they’d only encountered in the darkest corners of their nightmares.

Fire and wrath and entropy, those were her weapons of choice.  She knew green aura of healing and the blue of protection, but hell only burned brighter when she ignored it in favor of these other paths.

“You’ll find that you’ve been...collared, for lack of a better term,” the man said as he came around her right shoulder just as another man approached her, a long needle attached to a tube in his hand.  “You aren’t in Thedas any more, Hawke.  In fact, you’re nowhere near your home or your companions or the influence of the Fade.”  He smiled as she struggled against her bonds, watching as the medic shot the tranquilizer straight into her vein.  “And while the first two are probably very bad things in your mind, you can’t tell me that you miss the Fade’s influence over you.”

The world grew foggy and the last thing Hawke saw before her eyes were forced shut by the poison in her veins was the man lighting up another cigarette as he watched her.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Where do they keep coming from?” Hawke shouted as she slung a fireball around the rocky outcropping they were tucked behind._

_Varric stuck his head around a boulder, saw the horns of an ogre bound straight for them, and grimaced.  “Don’t know, Hawke, but we’ve got more pressing problems right now.”_

_“Like what?”_

_The roar of pain the ogre let out as a sword was driven into its neck kept Hawke from hearing Varric’s reply.  Seconds later, the ground underneath their feet rumbled as the ogre fell dead._

_Hawke motioned to Varric with a jerk of her head and they both dared to look over the rocks hiding them from enemy view.  A familiar white shock of hair, plastered with blood and darkspawn gore, capped off a smirking face that Hawke was just about ready to launch herself at and kiss._

_And Fenris was not someone she was likely to kiss, not after that ill-fated night several years ago.  They’d both admitted it had been a mistake - a much needed, very enjoyable, but so not right for either of them - mistake._

_“I thought you said you could handle it,” Fenris said, one dark eyebrow raised as he saw them approaching._

_Varric motioned behind them to the pile of bodies they’d left in their wake.  “Your eyes not working properly, Elf?”_

_“Bianca finally leave you bereft, dwarf?” Fenris said easily, no heat in his tone as he toed the dead ogre disdainfully._

_“I was going to take him down,” Hawke protested to no one in particular, “I was just resting for a moment.”_

_“There were a lot of darkspawn,” Varric said kindly.  Hawke simply glared at him and he just chuckled, wiping a spot of blood from his coat._

_Fenris waved them on, saying that Isabela was waiting down the coast with the ship. “I thought she said it would be a week before she had a new one,” Hawke said, confusion narrowing her browline._

_Fenris just shrugged.  “I’ve learned not to ask questions where the pirate wench is concerned.”_

_Hawke shot her gaze over to Varric, who simply shrugged and began readjusting Bianca’s bowstring.  “ ‘It’s Isabela’ is what I’ve been saying for years, Hawke,” he replied to her unspoken question.  “She pretty much gets what she wants.”_

_“Or steals it,” Fenris added in._

_“Or flashes her tits and someone just gives it to her.”_

_Varric stifled a laugh.  “You sound jealous, Hawke.”_

_“You forget, I’ve seen Isabela’s tits,” she shot back, grinning, “and trust me, I’m very, very jealous.”_

_“Of her tits or the fact that she can use them to get what she wants?”_

_“Both.”_

_Even that made Fenris laugh._

_They were halfway down the coast and nearing Isabela’s ship, eyes trained for more darkspawn, when Hawke stopped abruptly.  Varric didn’t notice she wasn’t keeping pace with them for a few seconds, but it was enough time for her to drop to her knees, hands clutching at her chest._

_“Hawke!”_

_He ran back to her, Fenris on his heels.  Isabela, who saw what was going on from the deck of the ship, came running as fast as she could.  Varric landed hard on his knees beside Hawke, his hands fluttering around her shoulders and forcing her to lay back as she gasped for air.  “Hawke, what is it?  What’s wrong?”_

_Hawke could only shake her head, unable to find her voice through the pain.  It felt like her heart was being pulled through her chest and she briefly, morbidly wondered if this was what Fenris’s victims felt when he plunged his hand into their chests and stopped their hearts._

_Varric looked up at the elf and the pirate, his mind incapable of forming proper thought.  He was no mage and he only knew rudimentary healing techniques.  This leaf to that poison, how to bandage wounds, those kinds of things.  And Hawke had been fine a moment ago, hadn’t she?_

_Between he and Fenris, they got her to lay down but she was still gasping for air and clutching at her chest.  Varric started to bark orders at Isabela and send her off to find elfroot and mayberries for a curative when Isabela pointed down at Hawke’s chest and slowly backed away, eyes wide._

_There was a black hole forming where Hawke’s heart was, but it wasn’t a wound.  It wasn’t anything any of them had ever seen, and it was steadily growing wider and deeper.  Like it was swallowing her from the inside out.  Hawke was reaching out for him, gasping and crying silent tears, her body racked with immeasurable pain, her fingers gripping Varric’s so tightly._

_“Varric, please,” she whispered.  And then she was gone._

 

* * *

 

They played nice, at first.  Hawke was treated fairly normally, considering that she was being held prisoner in white room with a bed and chair she couldn’t take apart to use as a weapon and nothing else.  Her magic had been taken from her - blocked, she was told by that man.

The Illusive Man, he called himself, chuckling as he said it.  Or, at least that’s what they call me, he’d said, backlit blue eyes watching her face for any reaction.  Hawke had just raised an eyebrow and mimicked his crossed leg (now that she could, since she was fully dressed in what seemed to be some kind of white jumpsuit).  

“Quite the title,” she’d replied, unimpressed and underwhelmed by the crazy man sitting across from her.  Oh yes, she could practically smell it coming off of him now, his cigarettes doing nothing to mask that distinctive odor of zealotry.  It made him dangerous, to be sure, but if Bartrand and Meredith and....Anders had taught her anything, it was to not play games with crazy. No matter how sure of themselves they sounded, no matter how sane they sounded. No matter how much she thought they wouldn't stab her in the back. _Trust yourself and your magic and keep those you love close, Zoey_ , her father had told her. She'd forgotten that advice and it had almost gotten her killed. Not again.

But if she had any hope of getting out of here and finding a way back home, she needed to play along.  If she could get her magic back, Hawke had no doubt she could blow this place to the Maker and back but she didn’t know anything about the chemical they pumped into her veins twice a day. _It’s a protein blocker, along with some amino acids and mixed peptide strains and other things I won’t go into on the genetic level.  But suffice to say that it’s designed to keep your magic under lock and key until I’ve decided that you are willing to play by the rules and use that power for our benefit.  But never before, Hawke.  From now on, your magic is a privilege you earn._

“A formality,” he’d said casually, waving his hand through the thin line of smoke he’d just blown out through his nose.  “Anonymity is important in my line of work.  But enough about that.”  He leaned forward, intense eyes focused on her.  “I wanted to ask you what you thought about your little history lesson.  It’s a lot of information, I know, but it’s important you understand the events that have led us up to this point, to this war.”

“The Reapers,” Hawke said slowly, her mind splintering into a thousand different directions.  The images she’d viewed had been intense, horrifying, once she'd gotten over the oddness of viewing such things. It was like watching someone else's memories be flashed in front of her and it felt wrong, almost voyeuristic.  They would have been too much if she hadn’t lived the life she had, seen what she had….done the things she’d done.  “I got that part.”

He blew another line of smoke out, clearly patient enough to wait for her to make the connections.  “Yes, but do you understand why they’re here?”

More images flashed through her mind, so fast Hawke thought she might be sick.  

_Millions of souls, millions of lives over here, millions of souls, millions of lives over there._

_A voice in the dark like the breath of a dragon waiting, watching._

_Darkness and death and the cold, cold depths of the stars._

_Reapers.  The harvest. The end of the cycle._

_We are the dead gods who dream._    

“Yes,” she gasped out, a hand grasping at her chest as she doubled over.  It was too much, it was all too much.  What had they done to her?  “Maker, yes.  I don’t want to, but yes.”

“Good.  Then you know why it’s so important that we gain control of them.”

Through the haze of her mind and the curtain of her hair, Hawke managed to focus her gaze on him and spit out a Tevinter curse before saying, “The last person I knew who tried to control a power like that?  They died at my hand.”

The Illusive Man just smiled at her.  “And I’d take that as a threat if you weren’t so weak.  But you’re a mage pulled from your own universe and thrown into ours, your body hasn’t fully adjusted and we have your powers under control.”  He took another drag on his cigarette.  “I’m not terribly worried about what you’ll do to me.”

Slowly, Hawke pulled herself upright, her hands gripping the arm of the chair until her knuckles ran bloodless but her eyes were hot.  The poison they’d laced her with couldn’t keep the heat from those green eyes as she said softly, “You should be.”

It wasn’t long after that when they started using the metal discs that shocked and the needles dripping with things that kept her compliant.  She struggled and fought and cursed, but every day grew a little weaker without her magic.  And he kept talking to her, showing her more images and telling her stories about how the universe had come together and fallen apart, how the other races were only looking out for themselves, and how humanity needed to look out for its own first.

Varric used to tell her that she was stubbornest smartass he knew, next to himself.  She had always taken it as a compliment.  But she felt that part of her slipping away now, thanks to the pricks of the needles they stuck her with and the shocks they administered when she fought them and the words of a clearly crazy man who, on some days, didn’t sound quite so crazy. Every now and then, what the Illusive Man told her started to sound like good things, good ideas, even though some part of her knew that he was wrong.  

Cerberus was wrong.  

This was all wrong and she shouldn’t be here.  She should be back with Varric and Fenris and Isabela, on the run from Kirkwall and the mess they’d left behind in that stinking walled city.

When they did leave her alone, shaking and bruised and barely able to curl up on the bed they gave her in that white-walled room, she didn’t sleep.  At least, it didn’t feel like it at first.  When mages dreamed, they entered the Fade.  But here, in this place, there was no Fade.  That’s what they told her and she wasn’t prone to believing them but it made sense once she stopped and thought about it.

No dreams.  Well, not the ones she normally had.  And she couldn’t feel the Fade anymore.  The distant buzzing in the back of her mind that had always been there and that she had learned to control at a young age (with the help of her father) was just….gone.

The silence was eerie, and a little frightening.  It was like the lock had been taken off the door and she could tell that if they’d just give her the magic back, she’d be stronger than ever.  Faster, more powerful, more capable.  They couldn’t truly take it all away, it was always there - in the tips of her fingers and in the ends of her hair and behind her eyes, she could feel the power.  But her access to it was sealed off, shut down somehow.

And here she was, further exhausting herself trying to figure it all out.   _Well, who else is going to?  No one knows where I am and I don’t think Varric and the others can reach me here.  I need to get my powers back and find my way out of here on my own.  I can do that.  I’ve been in worse situations before._

Hawke let out a deep breath, feeling the pull in her ribs as she did so.  They didn’t beat on her or torture her with knives and fists but it was painful all the same, those treatments and chemicals they kept injecting her with.  Sometimes she felt nothing other than a tingle, other times her power would come flaring to life and she would be stronger than ever before, like she was riding a lyrium high -she lurched off the table, ready to explode as the fire under her skin set her aflame - and then soldiers with weapons would come rushing into the room while people in white coats pinned her down and injected her again and then everything went black.

Hawke shifted on the bed, trying to take weight off her sore side.   _Maker, what I wouldn’t give for a potion or some healing magic right now._  And then she winced, not from the pain but from the next thought that crossed her mind.

Anders.

_Maker blast you into oblivion, you lying sack of shit._

Sleep didn’t come quickly or easily that night, but when it did, Hawke dreamt of Anders, and Varric.  Sebastian and Fenris.  My boys, she used to joke when she’d take them out on an expedition.  They’d grumble and groan but she never missed the smiles and good-natured eye rolls when they thought she wasn’t looking.  And then she’d smile back and say….

_“This isn’t so bad, is it?”_

_Varric kicked a stick out of the path and looked around.  “For the Wounded Coast, it’s almost hospitable, Hawke.”  He shot her a glance and grinned.  “Almost.”_

_Sebastian leaned down to inspect a corpse and quickly straightened, his handsome face wrinkled in disgust.  “And by hospitable, you mean littered with the bodies of those unlucky enough to have gone the wrong way.”_

_Fenris walked by them all, scouting ahead for enemies.  When he could tell the path was clear, he came back and looked down at the body Sebastian was referring to.  “How can you tell it’s an innocent traveler?  How do you know it’s not some smuggler or slaver who met his fair end?”_

_Sebastian shrugged.  “I assume innocent unless proven otherwise, Fenris.  It’s what the Maker does in his infinite judgment, and I aim to follow that example.”_

_Fenris just harrumphed and walked on, making Sebastian shake his head._

_Hawke clapped a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.  “He’ll come around.  And if he doesn’t….well, no one can say you didn’t try.”_

_Varric held a hand up in front of his eyes.  “And they certainly can’t argue that your armor wasn’t part of your argument.  Maker’s breath, Choir Boy, what do you polish that with?”  He pointed a finger at Sebastian.  “And don’t you dare say ‘The divine light of Andraste”, or I may have to break my own oath and hit you, Chantry Brother or not.”_

_Sebastian held a hand up in his defense.  “I wasn’t going to say that.”  He looked to Hawke for help.  “He is joking about hitting me, right?”  When Hawke didn’t answer right away, Sebastian glared at Varric.  “I thought you were above petty violence, Varric.”_

_That made Hawke snicker as she motioned Sebastian forward.  “See what Fenris has gotten up to, would you?  We don’t need him knee-deep in Coterie or Qunari all by his lonesome.”  Sebastian nodded and took off at a pace so he could catch up with Fenris.  Hawke waited until he was almost out of sight before she turned on Varric.  “Now, now, Varric.  I can’t have my friends beating on each other.  You should apologize to Sebastian.”  She stopped walking, her eyes getting big as she smiled.  “Better yet, you owe me.”_

_Varric turned honey-brown eyes on her, his glare hot.  “Oh no, Hawke.  I know that look.  Don’t.”_

_“Don’t what?”_

_“What ever scheme you’re thinking up right now, stop.”_

_She rubbed her hands together.  “I think you hurt Sebastian’s feelings earlier, Varric.  Why don’t you kiss and make up and I’ll call our debt even.”_

_When Varric finally found his voice, he chuckled weakly before saying, “Look, no offense to Choir Boy, but he’s really not my type - “_

_Hawke blew out a frustrated breath.  “Not now, you silly dwarf.  Think on it.  You owe me big, and I’m offering to wipe the slate clean for one measly kiss.  If you can get Sebastian to agree, meet me at The Hanged Man tonight.”_

_“Hawke, isn’t there some other way -”_

_“Clean.  slate.  Varric.”_

_Varric’s shoulders slumped.  Well, shit, she had him there.  It was just one kiss, and maybe if he got Choir Boy drunk enough….  “I can’t argue with that.  Fine.  Got any other demands, your majesty?”_

_Hawke thought for a moment and then said, “I want to see this kiss firsthand, not have you give me some exaggerated story about it happening.”  She raised an eyebrow at him and grinned.  “And it has to be a real kiss, not some peck on the cheek or brotherly kiss on the lips.  I’m talking lips and tongue, and oh, maybe even some hands involved.”  She waved a hand in front of her face.  “Is it hot out here all of a sudden?”_

_Hawke sped off to catch up with the others and Varric was left to gape after her for a moment.  “She’s been hanging around Isabela too much,” he said in a low voice as he pulled Bianca from his back and hurried off to catch them, mind reeling over how the hell he was going to get out of this one._

_That night, The Hanged Man was packed to the rafters with the usual assortment of drunkards, near-drunkards, and Lowtowners looking for a good time, or a good fight.  Varric had sent word to Hawke to meet him in his suite on the second floor after dark._

_Hawke was pushing her way through the crowd when she spotted Isabela in the far corner.  The pirate saw Hawke, raised her mug in solidarity, and winked.  “I heard about the bet!” she called over the crowd.  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”_

_Hawke motioned with her head to Varric’s suite and Isabela started picking her way through the throngs of people to join her.  They met at the foot of the stairs and trudged up, pausing only to let a few City Guardsmen pass.  When they reached Varric’s door, Hawke winked at Isabela and banged on the wood with her fist._

_“Don’t just stand there, get in before someone sees you two,” Varric hissed as he opened the door._

_The two women shared a laugh before sliding inside the room.  Hawke let her eyes adjust to the dim light - Varric only had a few candles scattered about and from the abandoned cups on table, was about three sheets to the wind at this point._

_“Think you’re still up for this, Varric?”  Hawke asked, which made Isabela laugh throatily._

_Varric waved a hand at her.  “I’m fine, Hawke. Sebastian should be here in a minute.  He thinks he’s coming here to talk about our next job, so I’ll need you to -”_

_Hawke backed up a step.  “Wait, what?  Varric, our deal was that you convince Sebastian to go through with this.  I’m not going to do anything but watch, remember?”_

_Varric gave her a pleading look.  “Hawke, look, I couldn’t just go up to him and ask.  I figured if you were here to just….reinforce the story, he might go along with it.”  He sat down in a chair and reached for another goblet of wine.  “After all, it’s only a kiss, right?”_

_Hawke crossed her arms.  “Part of me thinks I should call this whole thing off and keep my marker with you, Varric.”_

_That’s when Isabela snuck up behind Hawke and said in her ear, “Think about it, sweet thing.  Varric and Sebastian, hesitant but looking at each other, then looking at you.  Varric to make sure you’re watching….Sebastian because he knows you’re watching.  They’re sitting across from each other, but not close enough to touch, because that would be too much.  So they have to lean in to get close….and then closer….”_

_She took a deep breath, her fingers toying with Hawke’s hair.  “They’re so close now, Hawke, lips just a fraction from each other, when Varric just wants it over and done with so he grabs the back of Sebastian’s head and pulls him in.  And then they’re kissing, and it’s glorious, those two beautiful men liplocked and not wanting to admit that they’re enjoying the feel of each other’s mouths.  Sebastian can’t help himself, it’s been so long since he’s been touched by another person, by anyone, that he leans in more and then his hand is on Varric’s leg and Varric’s other hand is on Sebastian’s arm.  And their lips part and their tongues touch and someone moans….”_

_“Isabela”, Hawke said in a low voice, “why don’t you go see if Sebastian has arrived yet?"_

_Isabela kept playing with Hawke’s hair, slowly pulling it loose from its bun.  “Are you sure, pet?”_

_“Yes, Isabela, I’m sure.”_

_“All right, I’ll go.”  Isabela let her hand fall slowly from Hawke’s hair, lingering long enough on Hawke’s back to be a caress, before she slipped out the door.  Hawke’s blood was pounding in her ears and her eyes were fixed on Varric, who was staring steadily at her._

_Hawke never heard Isabela lock the door behind her._

_Varric swallowed roughly and said, “You might as well sit, Hawke.  It might be a few minutes.”_

_Hawke leaned back heavily in her chair and cracked a smile.  “I might need a few minutes.”  She snatched the goblet from his hand and downed it in one swig.  “Maker, have you been teaching her how to tell stories?”_

_He grinned.  “Nope, that one was all Rivaini.  You have to admit, she has a knack for the dirty ones.”_

_She eyeballed him closely.  “You aren’t bothered that you were a star player in her little tale?”_

_He shrugged, aiming for casual as he took the goblet back from her.  “Not really.  I can see the appeal of Choir Boy.  Pretty eyes, nice voice, good archer.  Pity about the whole ‘wedded to the Bride of the Maker” thing.”_

_“You’re not worried your little plan might fall through?”  She accepted the full goblet he passed to her.  “Assuming you do have a plan, that is.”_

_Varric waited until she swallowed more wine before sliding from his chair and walking over to her.  “Oh, I have a plan, but sadly, it doesn’t involve our friendly Prince of Starkhaven.”  That got Hawke sitting upright.  But before she could stand, Varric gently took the wine goblet from her hand and put it aside before placing a finger on her lips.  “See, as appealing as he might be, I figure that this whole little idea was some hairbrained scheme you came up with on the fly not because you really want to see me and Sebastian lock lips.”   Varric raised a rakish eyebrow at her.  “It’s because you really want to lock lips with me.”_

_Hawke sputtered a laugh against his finger, pulling away from him.  “So….what, you get Isabela to work me into a lather over the thought of you and Sebastian kissing so you can seduce me?  That was your grand plan?”_

_He smiled at her.  “I’ll make it worth your while, Hawke.”_

_“That so?”_

_“It is indeed.”_

_She tried to suppress a smile but couldn’t.  “You’re telling me I would enjoy a kiss from you better than I would watching you and Sebastian kiss.”_

_He leaned in close and she caught the scent of wine and ink and candlewax.  “Have you ever kissed a dwarf, Hawke?  No?  Then I am telling you, you will definitely enjoy this.”_

_Varric closed the distance between them and touched his lips to hers.  One hand cupped her jaw gently while the other braced himself on the arm of her chair.  Hawke didn’t have time to think, only to react against the skill and warmth of his mouth as he claimed her.  Hawke’s hands acted on their own, going to his shoulder and the back of his head as she pulled him closer._

_The initial shock of the kiss didn’t last long.  Instinct and need - the need of two people who had long gone without the touch of another - and what was just supposed to be lips and heat turned into the brush of tongues and the demand of hands._

_Her knees parted and Varric had to step between them as she tugged him up against her body, the press of her mouth and hands asking for more.  Varric’s hand got tangled in the hair Isabela had loosened earlier as he found her clip and tugged it free.  Hawke’s red hair spilled over his hand and he used its length to direct her head and her mouth to an angle where he could deepen the kiss.  Hawke wandered a hand under his jacket, the other into his hair and battled his tongue with hers._

_Varric needed more - suddenly, fiercely, he wanted more.  He wanted to taste her, more of her, more than just her mouth.  His lips slid from hers, up her jaw and over to her hammering pulse and he felt her grab at him as he licked the sweat from her neck._

_And then Hawke moaned, and it was all over.  The last shred of control Varric was hanging onto was trod into the ground and he tore away from her, panting and cursing._

_He was shaking, his entire body trembling from the force of his need and when he dared to look over at her, he could see her body quivering too.  But when she looked at him, her face didn't betray the need her body shook with._

_"I hate it when you're right," she said finally as she righted herself in the chair. "You're a damn good kisser, Varric."  Hawke gave a little laugh, shaking her head.  "And here I thought I was going to watch a good show tonight. Didn't think I'd get to participate." She crooked a finger at him and when he didn't move, pulled herself from the chair and came to him, sinking to her knees in front of him so she could see him properly.  "This might be a stupid question, but are you all right?"_

_Varric looked at her long and hard for a moment, the span of one solid heartbeat that resonated in his ears before he answered her.  "Yeah, Hawke," he said in a voice as rough as the floor she kneeled on in front of him, "I'm all right."_

Maker, how she missed him.

The days dragged on, endless points between sessions on the table and short breaks in her cell. The Illusive Man would sometimes drop by to see her, other days he wouldn't. It all started to blur and Hawke wondered if she'd ever be let out, ever not be strapped to that Maker forsaken table every day, despite what he said.  What he promised.

And Hawke kept dreaming, of days and times that had long since passed and things that had happened and had made her happy or made her cry and things that she could barely bring herself to think about even on the best of days.  She dreamt about it all.

 

* * *

 

Then one day, they didn’t put the poison in her veins.  The Illusive Man said she’d been doing better and he wanted to see her powers.  So they put her in a high-ceilinged, metal-walled room and she waited, relishing the feel of fire and heat in her hands.

Men in armor with batons came through doors on the sides - four, then six, then ten of them.  

“I want you to disarm them, Hawke,” his voice said through the walls.  “Defend yourself, because they won’t show you any mercy. And no, escape isn't an option. We have soldiers stationed right outside this doors and in every hallway with weapons you've never seen before. Do as you're told, and I'll let you keep your magic for a bit."

She tried to do as she was told.  The first man came at her with a leering grin, as she was only wearing a thin white shirt and pants and she was sweating from the room’s heat and fire in her skin.  So she just shoved him aside with a red-hot hand.  He yelled and slapped a hand over his face where she’d touched him, his skin red and starting to peel.

“Bitch!” he yelled as he launched himself at her.

And she couldn’t help it.  The flames unfurled from her hands like they’d never been gone and licked out, barely touching the man who was swinging his baton at her.  And then he was on the ground, his skin sloughing off as fire ate away at his body and she swung around, ready.

Waiting.  Wanting.

Two more men went down as quickly as they approached, her fireballs leaving them headless corpses on the ground. Hawke grabbed the next man, unable to stop herself as she pushed her fingers into his skull and wiggled them around.

He died screaming not in pain, but from sheer fear as the things he only ever saw in the recesses of his mind, some things he never even knew he feared, all flared to life before his eyes.

Then she raised her hands to the sky and brought down a storm of fire and knocked the six men to the ground.  Their screams were not as short-lived as their teammates.

Inside the control booth, a researcher looked up from her datapad and said, “Two minutes, six seconds, sir.”

The Illusive Man rubbed his chin thoughtfully and motioned to a man near the door.  “Send in your shock troopers.  Let’s see if she can be any faster.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

The shuttle shook as Shepard punched its hull.  “Dammit!” she yelled, drawing back her fist for a second hit.

“Not to uh, stop the rage fest that she’s got going on, but if she puts a hole in this thing, we’re not getting off of Noveria any time soon,” Vega whispered to Liara as they watched Shepard pull the punch at the last minute and let out a little growl of frustration, then turn hot eyes on them instead.

“I’m more worried about her right now than the shuttle,” Liara replied just as quietly.  “Everything we had from the Cerberus intel we’ve picked up said we’d find something on this weapon on Noveria.  Walking away empty-handed isn’t doing much for the mission, or for her."

That Shepard overheard, and it did nothing to quell her anger.  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, huh?”  She punched the shuttle again, and that got Cortez out of his pilot’s seat.  Vega motioned him over and they exchanged quick words, then Cortez went back to his chair, his face drawn and tight.

“Shepard,” Liara started, going to her friend with an outstretched hand of comfort.  “We’ll figure this out.”

Shepard whipped her helmet off and all but tossed it in the far corner.  “Cortez, get us out of here so Vega can blow that shithole of a base.”  The shuttle pilot nodded grimly and prepared for takeoff.  Shepard stood behind his chair and watched his hands move, smooth motions as he flicked open panels and lit up screens and somehow, oddly, it calmed her.

Her rage was an asset even on the worst days.  It leveled her in battle, gave her an adrenaline boost and narrowed her vision so she could see down the field and give out orders and keep her team alive. But now it weighed her down, one more stone tied to her so she'd sink underwater.

Shepard felt like she was drowning in a shallow pool and the stress was clearly showing.  This was supposed to be the break they needed, the one thing that could get them an edge in this damn war.  Find the weapon, steal the weapon (and preferably bring Cerberus down at the same time), and use the weapon against the Reapers.  No one said it was going to go down like this.

* * *

  
The Cerberus base on Noveria had been their best lead yet on this Reaper-controlling weapon, but when they'd arrived, they'd found trip wires and shrapnel bombs and Cerberus troops by the dozens.  The best part had come when they'd finally battled through all of that (including three Atlases that insisted on bombarding them with fucking rockets) only to find a holo from the Illusive Man waiting for them instead of the intel that was to lead them to the weapon.

"Shepard," he said, inhaling deeply on his cigarette and letting the smoke loose before continuing.  "I was hoping I'd find you here."

Shepard leveled her gun and flashed a quick, three-fingered signal to Vega. He'd nodded his understanding and quickly took off around the corner to check the perimeter and finish wiring the bomb.  Liara had moved in between Shepard and Vega's positions, eyes constantly darting about for enemies.

"Far be it for me to disappoint," Shepard said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

"That's a road we've already been down," he replied.  "I'm assuming you're here for data on this weapon I supposedly possess."

"I'm here to blow this base up like I have the last three Cerberus strongholds," she said evenly, "or haven't you seen the craters I've left behind where your bases used to be?"

"And here I thought you were digging for information, Shepard." He gave a smirk that instantly set Shepard's hair on end.  "Well, I for one am tired of playing games.  If you're looking for the weapon, here she is."

He stepped aside and the holo flickered, then settled once again. With the Illusive Man out of the way, the only thing Shepard and Liara could see was a young woman with fire red hair strapped to a table.  The holo didn't let them see much detail but it was clear she was in a lot of pain as she struggled against her bonds, her jaw clenched and hands scrabbling against the slick metal of the table. When a Cerberus flunkie in a lab coat approached the table armed with a syringe, the woman's head snapped to the side and she growled an unintelligible word at the lab coat, making the man backpedal. Another lab coat took the syringe and plunged it into the woman's neck.

The woman went still, the abruptness of her complete lack of movement unnerving.  Shepard found herself leaning close to the holo, her own rage and helplessness over what she was seeing making her temples throb.  Liara's hand on her shoulder pulled her back and Shepard nodded briefly to her friend. "You son of a bitch-"

The woman lurched off the table, the straps around her wrists and ankles keep her from flying off the metal slab completely.  She let loose an ear-piercing scream as flames of orange, then red - as red as blood or the darkest strands of her hair - exploded in her hands and roared up her arms.  Higher the flames went, until they covered her to the neck, but she wasn’t burning through her bonds or melting the table.

And then the Illusive Man approached her, a tiny smile in his face, before he turned back to address Shepard.  "Here is humanity's savior, Shepard. This woman will be the vanguard of our race.”

“You’re torturing her,” Shepard said in a low voice, her hands balling at her sides.  “Is this what Cerberus has resorted to, what you’ve resorted to?  Back to terrorists and kidnappers and torturers?  How does that help humanity, help us win this war?  You goddamn bastard, I will find you and make you pay for this.”

“I’m not concerned about the entire galaxy, Shepard.”  And he waved a hand over the pain-racked body of the woman laying in front of him.  “Just her, and the human race.  Clearly, we don’t have the same goals any more.  Between our conversation now and the one we had on Mars, that much is clear. She will help me find a way to control the Reapers.  I suggest you get back to fighting your little war.  The more time and soldiers you waste trying to fight a force like the Reapers, the bigger the hole you make for Cerberus.”

The holo cut out, and the image of the woman strapped to the table, her body seized with pain, was burned into Shepard’s retinas.  It would haunt her dreams that night when she chased sleep fitfully, even wrapped in Garrus’s arms as he stroked her hair and told her that they’d find her, and the Illusive Man and make him pay for every bit of pain he’d put that woman through.

“We’ll find her, Shepard.”

Shepard whirled on Liara just as Vega came trotting up, having heard the entire exchange over comms.  His face looked grim through his helmet and he flashed the bomb trigger at Shepard.  She just nodded, the bitter words she’d been ready to unfairly snap out at Liara cut off by the welcome sight of that little bit of black plastic and wire in his hand.

She touched a hand to her helmet.  “EDI, we’re shuttle-bound.  Did you get a trace on that holo from the Illusive Man?”

“Not a complete one, Shepard, but I may be able to triangulate an approximate location based on the communication’s signal and the most recent records we have of Cerberus activity.”

“Get me something by the time we’re back to the Normandy,” Shepard barked into her comm.  “Cortez, we’re in atmo in five.”

EDI and the pilot shuttle responded almost simultaneously, and Shepard took off at a quick jog, motioning for Liara and Vega to follow her.  Liara shot Vega a worried glance before following Shepard with the Lieutenant right behind her, the bomb trigger safely clasped in his hand.

* * *

 

Cortez launched the shuttle off the base, the jolt of takeoff shaking Shepard from her thoughts.  “We hit atmo, you blow it,” she said to Vega.

“You got it, Lola,” he said, trying to give her one of his customary grins.  The one he got back in return was a shadow of the cocksure, almost feral smile she’d normally give after a battle.

Nothing about this was right.  The uneasiness in her gut told Shepard that things were only going to get worse.  She leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her thighs and let out a slow breath.   _You have to reach for steady, Shepard_.  That’s what Garrus told her back on the SR-2, before they were ever together.  They were sitting in the observation deck, it was late, and they were drinking and she asked him how he managed to stay alive for so long on Omega.   _You have to reach for steady, Shepard.  Find something that keeps you from falling over that edge, and hang on to it until your fingers bleed._  At the time, her steady was knowing that if she didn’t stop the Collectors, no one else would.  Now, it was him.

Out of her the corner of her eye, she saw Liara hesitate before sliding down the bench to settle beside her.  “We will find her, Shepard.  EDI will have the signal from the Illusive Man narrowed down by the time we reach the Normandy and then we can retrieve her.”

“It’s a person.”  She turned to Liara, her normally bright blue eyes dark with exhaustion and disgust.  “He’s using a person, a woman, for his own power.  I don’t know why I’m surprised, since it’s the Illusive Man and Cerberus.  But….that son of a bitch was torturing her.  Where did he even find her, Liara?”

Liara had no answer for her friend, so she simply sat beside her and said, “We’ll make it right, Shepard.”

Shepard nodded and started to reply, but Vega cut her off.  “Hey, Lola, maybe this will help.”

And he hit the bomb’s trigger.


	6. Chapter 6

Isabela wiped her blade on the tunic of the bandit she’d just killed and shot a reproachful glare at Varric.  “Your source better be right about this.”

“My sources are always good, Rivaini, which is more than I can say for yours.  Anyone else remember a certain Castillon and a relic and all the trouble we got into over that?”

“Oh, I do,” Merrill said from behind them, making the pair jump.  “But wasn’t that really Isabela’s fault, in the end?”

“Dammit, kitten, don’t you know better than to sneak up on people like that?”  Isabela waved her dagger at the mage.  “That’s how you go getting stabbed.”

“Serves you right, wench,” Fenris said as he came up on the threesome, dragging that evening’s dinner in a net behind him.  “You have a bad habit of sneaking yourself.”

Isabela cozied up to him, batting her eyelashes.  “I could sneak up on you later, when we’re all alone if you’d like.”

“Try it and see what happens,” came back the dry response.

“Spoilsport.”  

“Whore.”

“Elf.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?  The last I checked, that’s what I am.”

Varric held up a hand.  “Okay, the next person who argues gets a bolt in the foot.”  He looked around and made a noise of disapproval.  “We can’t set up camp here, not with the number of bandits we’ve run into lately.”  He nodded to a nearby hillside.  “Let’s try over there.  What do you think, Fenris?”

Fenris looked toward where Varric was talking about, studied the area for a moment, and nodded his assent.  The group took off for their campsite, moving as quietly as possible in the brush.  The sun was setting and in this part of far-west Thedas, reports of bandits and darkspawn were thick amongst taverns they’d stopped at during their trek.

As the group settled in for the evening - Isabela propping up tents, Merrill fetching firewood, and Fenris skinning the hares for dinner, Varric consulted his notebook like he did every night.  The book was thick with notes and letters he’d gathered over the last four weeks.  Ancestors, had it really been that long since Hawke had disappeared?

He ran a weary hand over his face, trying to block out the image of her pain-stricken face, the sound of his name on her lips, the feel of her hand in his before she disappeared right before their eyes and they were left stranded on a barren stretch of the coast with no clues, no leads and no idea where to start looking.  

So Varric had started tapping every source he had - sneaks and thieves and information traders as far West as Orlais and as far North as the Anderfels.  They had set up a makeshift camp in a small town south of the Antivan border, some village that Isabela knew from her travels and said would be safe.  He sent letters out to Sebastian, Aveline, and Merrill to let them know what happened.  Aveline wrote back immediately, telling Varric that she would come if she could but she was making her own inquiries into Hawke’s fate.  It was evident how upset she was about what had happened, her handwriting made up of angry slashes and marks on the page.

Merrill sent her letter with a raven, telling them that she could leave immediately.  She had gone back to the Dalish to teach them what she’d learned of magic and the human world, but for Hawke, she would meet them in the forest outside of Starkhaven in a week.

Sebastian was the last to answer, his note coming with a courier on horseback.  The Prince of Starkhaven, now its sole ruler, was surprisingly angry over Hawke’s fate, but not completely at those who were responsible.  He was angry at Hawke for the fate of the Chantry, for the death of the Grand Cleric, and for her decision to let Anders go, and he said that her sympathy for mages who chose “paths of darkness” was partially to blame.

Varric had a hard time accepting that answer. Fenris told him to let it go but he couldn't. He reasoned that they were meeting Merrill outside of Starkhaven anyways, so it made sense to pay Starkhaven's new ruler a visit. Sebastian now had power, money and influence. If anyone could help them find answers, and Hawke, it would start with the former Chantry brother.

Sebastian, however, was not so easily swayed.

"So that's it?" Varric asked as he stared at Sebastian from across a giant oak table. "You're sending us from here with no help and no resources."  He looked around the stately hall with an approving eye.  "The least you could do is offer us a place to stay for the night."

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly, his hands gripping the edge of the table.  "Of course you are welcome here, Varric. But I have nothing more to offer you than somewhere to rest for the evening. I have no mages in my employ and the few of my lords who do use mages have no one with knowledge of the dark arts you are referring to."  He crossed his arms over his brocaded tunic. "I'm sorry, I cannot help you."

"This is _Hawke_ , Sebastian," Varric protested, slamming a hand down, making a nearby goblet topple. "You can be angry at her, hell you can even hate her for letting Anders-"

"Do not speak that murderer's name to me!" Sebastian spat, his words cutting like a slap. "Do not, Varric. Not in this hall. Not in the hall of my family."

Varric drew in several deep breaths through his nose before he spoke again. "I apologize, Messere," he said, not bothering to keep the acid out of his voice.  To Sebastian's credit, he didn't flinch at Varric's slight and let the dwarf keep talking.  "You can even hate her, Sebastian, but she was your friend. I know she still cares about you, even now. But she needs our help. After all she has done for you, everything she did to help you get here," and he gestured at the room they were in with a gloved hand, "you would turn your back on the woman who gave you the means to reclaim your home?"  He pointed a finger at Sebastian. "That is not the man I expected to find here in the halls of Starkhaven."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, the blue of his irises fairly glowing.  "Then clearly you were misled as to the kind of man I've become, Varric."

Varric shook his head and walked out of the room. "No, I understand exactly the kind of man you've become, Sebastian," he said over his shoulder. He didn't see the way Sebastian's covered his face with a hand when Varric disappeared down the hall to collect the others.

They left Starkhaven after eating and resting for a few hours, Merrill in tow, and were prepared to keep heading north when a guard in Starkhaven colors came rushing up to their little party.  "Messere Tethras! Please, wait!" The guard gasped out.  He sprinted the last several yards, saluted smartly, them reached into pouch at his side.  "From the Prince. I am under orders to bring back any reply you may have." And the guard dropped off to the side of the path and folded his hands behind his back.

The letter started with an apology, of sorts, for his behavior but not for his feelings over his anger at what had happened in Kirkwall.  He provided them with the names of a few Circle mages in Fereldan who may have knowledge that could help them.  He would write to them, Sebastian said, and would make a few other inquiries, but there was nothing else he could do.  But they were always welcome at Starkhaven - as long as Hawke wasn't with them.  Sebastian would appreciate any news of her well being, but did not think he could face the Champion any time soon.

“What a sod,” Isabela had said from over his shoulder.  “Blaming Hawke for what happened to her?  Absolute shit, that one.  Always knew he was an idiot, but this is reaching, even for him.”

“Well, you know what they say about power, Rivaini,” Varric had replied as he folded the letter neatly.  “Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and he’s the ruler of his very own little hill now.”

“Yes, so he can look down on all of us now from a seat of power, not from a Chantry confessional.  That doesn’t make it any better.  Now he has archers and mounted swordsmen to do his bidding.  Before, all we had to worry about was whether he took that whole wearing the Bride of the Maker on his crotch thing seriously or not.”

Despite himself, Varric snorted and Isabela just smiled.

"Tell the Prince," Varric said to the Starkhaven guard, "that we appreciate his hospitality but his sudden status as an _apostate_ doesn't sit well with us.  We're full up."

The guard's eyes grew big but he nodded and took off at a clip.  Varric turned back to his friends, whose expressions ranged from wide eyed shock to barely contained mirth to a generous smirk.  He took all three of their faces in and smiled. "I have a plan, but I don't think any of you are going to like it. Hell, I don't like it. But if we want to get Hawke back, it may be the only way."

Merrill removed her hand from her mouth and said in a solemn voice, "Anders."

Isabela turned and slapped the elf lightly on the arm with the flat of her dagger. "Don't blaspheme, Merrill."

Varric shot her a disapproving look but nodded at Merrill. "Unfortunately, he's our only option."

"Our only option, or our easiest one?" Fenris said from Varric's left.

"Broody, I know you don't approve-"

"I definitely do not."  As Varric turned and began to argue, Fenris held up a hand to stop the onslaught. "However, it makes a kind of sense.  If anyone is going to understand the dark magic that took Hawke, it would be the abomination who used dark magics to murder hundreds of people."  At Varric's raised eyebrow, Fenris simply added, "It is Hawke. We can tie him down, force his help if necessary, then kill him if he blinks at us wrong."

They settled into a small town north of Starkhaven and started the grueling process of trying to track down Anders.  Merrill and Isabel spent countless hours on foot, in nearby villages and towns, trying to piece together any clues.  Fenris threatened and cajoled local cutthroats and lyrium smugglers for information.  And Varric held down the fort.  They heard nothing for days, then a week, then almost two and then a friend of a friend of someone Varric knew from a while back wrote saying they’d seen a mage matching Anders' description in the Arlathan forest.

And now they were just a day, maybe two away from their goal and Varric should have been feeling something more than dread.  But he couldn't shake the churning in his gut telling him that something was _wrong_.

Varric looked down at his notebook and saw that he’d stopped rifling through the papers to land on a charcoal picture he’d done of Hawke a few years ago, right after she was named Champion of Kirkwall.  Her red hair had been shorter then, and she kept it pulled away from her face.  She was smiling, her eyes looking at some far off point and she looked happy.

It was the kind of picture Varric didn’t divulge in often, but he felt compelled to draw it at the time.  The torch he carried for Hawke was buried so deep that he had trouble acknowledging the flame even on the best days.  He figured by now that they were destined to be the closest of friends, and as long as he was by her side, it didn’t matter whether he ever told her that he loved her.  As long as he was there to protect her, what lived deep down could stay buried.

He ran a hand over the drawing and watched as his gloved fingers smudged the lines.  He'd failed her.  Hawke was gone and he had no idea where she was or if she was hurt or….

No, he wouldn’t think like that.  He couldn’t think like that, not when they were days away from the Arlathan forest.  They’d find Anders and get Hawke back and then - and then they’d figure it out.  But they had to get Hawke back first.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter post before the holidays - more updates after the new year!

_Once more into the breach_ , Hawke thought darkly as she was pushed down into a chair directly across from the Illusive Man.  She cast a wary glance at the door behind him as it shut, but he just smiled, a mirthless thing that made his backlit blue eyes shrink into his face a little.  She shivered.  It wasn’t from the sterile cold of the white room, she was used to that by now.  And she was Ferelden, the cold didn’t bother her.  His eyes, however, did.   _They look too much like Anders._

“I’m not killing for you again,” she said in a low voice, eyes going back to the door.

He clasped his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair, forgoing his usual cigarette for now.  “That’s not why I’m here, Hawke.  You did extremely well in your tests, I must admit, even after all the blockers we put into you.  Your powers are...formidable.  But then again, I’m not surprised.”

He did light a cigarette now, the slow, steady work of lighter to rolled paper almost hypnotic and Hawke found herself transfixed by the motion.  “And why is that?” she finally managed to say as he put the cigarette to his lips.

That made him smile a little.  “I think it’s time for another history lesson, Hawke.”

She put a hand up to stop him.  “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”  An image flashed across her mind - what she could do if she had some semblance of her power right now, _fireball the smirk right off his face, blast a hole through the wall, take out the guards at the end of the hallway, two right turns then a left, then to the room with all the lights and panels.  Find a way out, and take down anyone in my way._

“Well, it’s either that,” he replied, breaking her chain of thought, “or I have them put you back on the table to run more tests.  We’re very close, you see, to perfecting the formula.  And once that’s done, you’ll have your powers, but better, stronger.  But you won’t have the control.  So if I were you, I’d relish your time out of that room.  You don’t have much time left that’s yours.”

Fear knocked on the back of her mind with a sharp fist but Hawke swallowed and refocused her eyes back on him.  In some ways, he was no better or worse than the Templars.  The Illusive Man and Cerberus just had better toys - where the Templars and the Knight Commander had mage bane and swords and the Right of Annulment, these fools were using technology, a thing that Hawke could barely wrap her mind around.  But they were human, and that was something Hawke could work with.

She talked to them whenever she got the chance.   _Say, what’s that stuff you’re dripping into my veins?_  Or, _hello there handsome, could you tell me exactly how that machine you’re sitting in front of works?_  Hawke was endlessly amazed at how even in this universe, most humans were all alike - desperate for the attention of others, even if that other person was helpless, strapped to a table and being experimented on eighteen hours a day.  

It may have seemed pointless to most, making conversation with her captors.  But Hawke knew from experience, hard-won experience at that, that the devil was in the details.   _If you can get your enemies talking, Hawke, sometimes that’s all you need,_ Varric told her more than a few times.   _They’ll tell you everything you need to know, and maybe a little more, if you know how to play them.  Sometimes you need to bat your eyelashes, sometimes you need to threaten, and sometimes you might have to lay a little money on the table.  But you don’t always have to throw spells around or swing a sword to defeat the bad guys._

And there were a few who simply didn’t want to talk to her - the blonde woman who was all business, strutting around like she owned the place, or the bald man whose eyes weren’t quite right (and who stared a little too much when he came by every day to inject her with some noxious green liquid that set her nerves on fire).  But for the most part, those who worked in the labs, even a few of the Cerberus soldiers, were fascinated by the red-haired woman who could sling fireballs and put her fingers into people’s brains.  

_If you can get your enemies talking, Hawke, sometimes that’s all you need._

So now, Hawke gritted her teeth to hold back the sharp retort she had for the Illusive Man and simply said, “So what’s this history lesson you want to impart on me?  Please tell me it’s something more than just the Reapers.”

He took a drag on the cigarette.  “Actually, it’s about you.  Aren’t you at all curious how we knew about you?”

And she had to admit, she was.  The question had crossed her mind a few times, in those moments of lucidity, between bouts of extreme pain when they were done testing formulas on her or when she was released into her chamber to rest for a few hours.  She figured it had something to do with their technology, some intricacy of this world she wasn’t privy to.  

His answer shocked her.  “It seems that your friend Varric Tethras’s stories lived far past your own little world.  We tell stories too, Hawke.  It’s a trait of humanity, of all the races really, that we can’t seem to shake.  Stories are the glue that bind our history and keep us from repeating the past.”  Another drag on the cigarette, and then, “Though that’s not helping us with the Reapers now.”

The Illusive Man put a hand out, a gesture like a storyteller would, and began his own tale.  “Your story is told in some parts of the universe, Hawke, a fairy tale of sorts.  And it’s a grand story, one of heroics and dragons and magic.  Children love it and grandparents love telling it.  But it’s just a story, passed down through old books and verbal retellings for centuries now on Earth.  It’s not as common as it used to be, but it’s still told, still shared.”  He leaned close now, eyes focused sharply on her.  “But the author of those stories, if you can find a printed copy, is a Sir Tethras.  He’s given credit when it’s due, especially by those who still tell the story like it’s supposed to be - orated, not read.”

Hawke’s browline drew down sharply.  “You’re telling me I’m some kind of….myth in your world?  A children’s story?  That’s how you knew about me?  Well, how very noble of you all.  But I’d rather keep my history to myself, thanks.”

He stubbed the cigarette out and smiled thinly.  “It’s a bit late for that.”  The smile vanished.  “If I were you, I’d be flattered.  Your friend did a hell of a job talking up your abilities.  That’s why you’re here, Hawke.  If I didn’t truly think you could help us control the Reapers, I would have never wasted the time and resources pulling you from your own world.”

“I don’t know the origins of the original work, how it got to our universe.  As best we can tell, there have been….leaks between our universe and yours for some time now.  Certain animals, plants have crossed over.  We even have a few theories on the links between magic and biotics, the powers that some humans and other races have.  It’s a little like magic, but not nearly as potent as the power you possess.  So our best guess is that these stories found their way, like so many other things, through a hole between our worlds.”

The door behind him cracked open and the blonde woman from the lab motioned to him.  Hawke didn’t like the look on her face, thinly disguised pride as she handed him a thin tablet with information scrolling over it ( _datapad, that’s what it’s called_ ).  The Illusive Man briefly read over it, handed it back, and shut the door.  But he didn’t sit.

Instead, he came over to her.  Hawke instinctively began to rise, her hands outstretched at her sides.  “Are we done talking?  And here I was just settling in for storytime,” she said, her humor barely concealing the panic rising in her throat.   _Maybe I can rush him, still take the door, get back to that lab where they keep me most days and figure out how to get my magic back._

The Illusive Man let her stand, let her come within a foot of him, before putting both hands on her shoulders and looking her square in the eyes.  “I am truly sorry about this, Hawke.  You’ve been doing so well, responding to all our treatments even though you fight us every step of the way. These last few days are going to be the worst of it, but after that, we will be a team and you will understand what I’m trying to do.”  

He pulled her close, almost in an embrace, as Hawke struggled against him.  But her body was weak after weeks of torture and tests and cold chambers with windowless walls and nothing but thin blankets and thinner clothes to keep her warm. 

“I am truly sorry for this,” he whispered as he placed a hand against her neck and the last thing she saw was the unsettling blue of his eyes.

 

* * *

  
“So where are we, Commander?”

Shepard leaned heavily against the railing in front of the QEC.  “Two hours out from the last place EDI picked up a Cerberus transmission.  It was heavily encoded but she triangulated it with the information we had from previous raids and the communication I got on Noveria from the Illusive Man.  It checks out, sir.”

Hackett stared at her for a moment before saying, “Or it’s a trap.”

Shepard nodded slowly.  “Or it’s a trap.”

He sighed.  “Fair enough.  As long as you know that going in.”  A muscle twitched in his face, almost as if he was trying to not crack the smallest of smiles.  “Where are we with the krogan and turians, Commander?”

“Knee deep in both, sir.  And pissing off the salarian dalatross while I’m at it.”

That made him chuckle.  “At least you haven’t lost your touch for diplomacy.”

She shrugged.  “If we can get a cure for the genophage, that will solve the krogans’ problem and get the turians the support they need.  Win-win in my book.”  She cracked a smile at him.  “Sir.”

Hackett rubbed a hand over his forehead.  “Just try not to kill any high ranking officers or diplomats, Commander.  We still need them, for now.  The salarians will come around, or they won’t.  Your work with STG has won you some support, so if they need to go about getting us reinforcements through other channels, let them.  What the dalatross doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”  He looked at a point behind her and Shepard turned to see Liara’s head poking around the corner.  “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere, Shepard.  I’ll let you get back to it.  Good luck down there, and bring me back some good news this time.  Hackett out.”

The vid comm shut down and Liara came into the room, datapad in hand.  “This is everything I have on the Cerberus base we’re about to hit, Shepard.”  She handed the datapad over and nodded at where Hackett’s image was seconds ago.  “He sounded….surprisingly optimistic.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow.  “I guess you could say that.  We just sent a bunch of salarian scientists to him for the Crucible from the STG ranks and they have Kasumi.  Plus all the Reaper tech we’ve been picking up I’m sure helps.  Mordin and Eve are making headway and that seems to make Wrex happy, and I'm all for happy krogans."  She put a hand on Liara's shoulder and gave her a small smile.  "And once we free this woman and bring down the Illusive Man’s operation, we’ll be putting a big dent in Cerberus, if not taking it down completely.  So today could be a very, very good day."

“Surely the Illusive Man has some kind of escape plan,” Liara said, watching Shepard as she scrolled through the info on the datapad.

“I don’t doubt it.  I would if I were him,” Shepard said, looking up to meet Liara’s eyes.  “Son of a bitch better fucking watch out, though.  He’s out of time and he doesn’t just have my attention now.”

With timing that only a krogan could have, Wrex stomped up the stairs and stopped just shy of the landing at the door of the QEC.  “Ready to bust some heads, Shepard?  Heh, just like old times.”

Liara turned wide eyes from Wrex, who was adjusting the ammo mod on his gun and giving them his best glare, back to Shepard, who gave her an oddly similar smile.  “Who else is going with you, Shepard?”

She handed the datapad back to Liara.  “Javik, Garrus, and Vega are going with Wrex and I.  And we’re taking EDI with us too.  I need you here working with Traynor to help guide us in while EDI is on the ground cracking their systems.  We’re flying blind on this one, so you will be getting us into their systems, feeding us schematics, anything to help us get past their defenses.”  Shepard saw Liara’s eyebrows raise and she let out a little laugh.  “Yeah, I know, not my customary three man ground team.”  She shot a glance back to the empty platform where Hackett’s image had been.  “But I’m thinking we’ll need all the firepower we can get on this one.

Shepard made her way through the War Room, Wrex at her heels as Liara broke off to meet with Traynor and EDI and start laying the groundwork to get into Cerberus’s systems.  Once in the elevator, Shepard turned to Wrex.  “You sure about this?”

“These pyjacks need taught a lesson, Shepard.  Sounds like they’re due for some good old fashioned krogan justice.”  He shook his head.  “It isn’t right, experimenting on people like that.  We’ve had enough of that with our females and Maelon and the damned genophage.  And here you are, trying to set things right.  Plus you did what you could for Aralakh Company, even though I don’t agree with freeing the Rachni….again.”  He put out his hand to her.  “It’s the least I can do, Shepard.”

She shook his hand and grinned.  “Glad to have you on this one, Wrex.”  The elevator was silent for a moment and then she laughed.  It started as a snort but quickly turned into a full-fledged chuckle.  When Wrex turned questioning eyes on her, all she could say was, “Damn, Wrex, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you say that much in one sitting, er...standing.  I didn’t know krogans were so talkative.”

“Heh.  Well, I’m a special case, Shepard.  Besides, how many krograns do you know?  And that squirt of a krogran who calls you Battlemaster doesn’t count.  He’s still young, doesn’t have enough scars yet.”

And that made Shepard laugh even harder.  Her laughter didn’t stop even as the elevator doors hissed open to reveal Garrus, EDI and Vega on the other side.

Vega’s eyes slid to Garrus, who just shrugged.  “Hard to tell, with those two,” Garrus replied.  “They’re too much alike.”

Wrex slapped a heavy hand on Shepard’s back, making her stumble forward.  Garrus put out a steadying hand on her and she straightened, trying not to let her gaze linger on the way his mandibles fluttered when she was this close.  “Ha!  I think that’s a compliment, Shepard.”  

Shepard ran a hand over the spot where Wrex had all but slapped her.  “Yeah, it is for Garrus.”  She eyed him carefully.  “I think.”

Garrus just smiled.  “Depends on whether I was comparing you to Wrex, or him to you, Shepard.”

That made Vega chuckle and Shepard whipped her head around.  “Don’t know what you’re laughing at, _Lieutenant_.”

“I thought we were preparing for a mission, Commander,” interrupted a stilted voice from the corner.  “In my cycle, we did not -”

“Oh, come off it, Prothean,” Wrex said from the weapons bench.  “We’re relieving some pre-battle stress.”  He leered at Javik, gun hanging loosely from his hand.  “Unless you’d rather go hand to hand with a krogan.”

Shepard stepped in between them.  “Stop.  Now.  Wrex,” she said, pointing at the krogan, “finish prepping your gear.”  Then she turned to Javik who was standing in the shadows and glaring at Wrex.  “Javik, over here for a second.”

When Javik hesitated, Shepard straightened and dropped her voice.  “That’s an order, Javik.  Don’t make me ask again.”

Vega turned back to his armor so Shepard didn’t see the grin on his face.  “The Prothean’s in trouble,” he said in a low voice to Garrus.

“Better him than us,” Garrus replied as he attached a scope to his rifle.  “Trust me, that tone of voice is not something you mess with.”

Javik followed Shepard into a far corner and instantly launched into a biting retort.  Shepard raised her hand and cut him off.  “Javik, I know you’re new to this ship and this crew.   Hell, to this time and this way of life.  However, you are now under my command, on my ship, and you will follow my orders or you will _get the fuck off my ship_.”  She leaned in close and said quietly, “Are we clear?”

Javik blinked his eyes slowly, one side of his mouth turned upward for a moment as if he was weighing his words before he responded.  “Yes, Commander.”

“Good.”  She glanced over at Wrex, who was moving from the weapons bench to the armor lockers and had started to chat with Garrus.  “You don’t have to like him, you don’t have to like anyone on this ship, including me.  But we are a team and we are fighting the Reapers and anyone who wants to stand in our way is getting blown to hell.  I’m sure you can get behind that.”  When he nodded, she grinned, a feral thing that lit up her face.  “You have no idea how happy that makes me, Javik.  You’re clear on our current mission?”  He nodded again and her smile grew wider.  “Cheer up, Javik, we’re going to rescue someone in need and hopefully bring down Cerberus all at the same time.  It’s a good day.”

Shepard cupped her hand around her mouth and said in a louder voice, “Isn’t that right, boys?”

Three heads swiveled her way and she smiled.  Hell yes, it was a good day indeed.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Vega waited a good ten minutes before approaching Shepard.  He wasn’t sure if he should even be doing this, especially now.  But when he’d awoke a few hours ago with the voice of his _abuelo_ in his ears and memories of hot afternoons spent on a rickety front porch, listening to stories about warriors and dragons and magic burned into his retinas, he figured he should speak up.

“Hey, Shepard, you got a minute?”

Shepard turned around as she secured the last latch on her armor.  “Got something on your mind, Vega?”

He ran a hand over his neck.  “Actually, yeah.  Wish it hadn’t just happened now, but I figure you need to know.”  Shepard raised an eyebrow and he shifted his considerable weight, amazed at how this woman could undo him with a stare.  “Yeah, okay, I know you gave us the mission brief earlier and everything.  I’m on board.  These _pendejos_ need to be put down, and fast.  But the woman, the one you said Cerberus has and is torturing because they think she’s some kind of weapon?”  He sat down on a bench and looked up at her, disbelief on his face.  “I think I might know who she is.”

That made Shepard sit down, the bench creaking under the combined weight of them and their armor.  “Don’t keep me in the dark, Vega.”

He leaned back against the wall.  “I’ll keep it short.  When I was a kid, my _abuelo_ used to tell me stories.  All kinds of stuff, right?  Crazy things that kids like to hear.  But my favorite were these stories about a woman named Hawke, like the bird but with an 'e', and her friends and how they traveled around and fought bad guys and monsters and dragons.  He always started them the same way:  'This is another great story by Sir Tethras about Hawke, the mage, and her adventures.  It began like how all great stories about heroes do - with a battle.'  I always figured Sir Tethras was someone he made up, but _abuelo_ insisted that he was a real guy, some author from long ago."   

He looked over and saw her watching him closely, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  “I would have never thought anything of it until you showed us that vid of the Illusive Man with that woman he’s keeping prisoner.  And damn if she didn’t look just like the way my _abuelo_ described Hawke.  And then when she lit up, the fire….Lola, that was Hawke’s power.  Fire, right from her hands.  She could control it, throw it, call it from the sky.  And she could do other things, too, but fire was what she was known for.”  He shook his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying.  “I don’t know how he did it, but he’s got a goddamned legend as his weapon, Shepard."

Shepard studied him for a few long moments, the implications of Vega’s words bouncing around in her brain.  "That’s why the Illusive Man wants her.”  When Vega nodded, Shepard let out a low whistle. "Well, shit."  She slapped her hands on her thighs and stood, putting a hand down to Vega to haul him up.  “I’m going to keep this between you and me for right now, James.  I don’t want to throw off the mission by tossing around a bunch of maybes and could be’s to questions we aren’t even sure we should be asking.”  Before his face could show any sign of disappointment, she shook her head slightly and held a hand up.  “But I’m not saying I don’t believe you.  Not at all.  In fact, I’m betting you’re right.  It sounds exactly like something the Illusive Man would do.”  She smirked, raising an eyebrow.  “They brought me back.  Grabbing someone from another universe can’t be that much more of a leap, right?”

That made Vega let out a small laugh from the back of his throat.  “True enough, Lola.  And I get it, why you don’t want to say anything to the others.”  He adjusted the shotgun at his side and grinned.  “Sometimes too much information can be…..well, a little too much.  And we don’t even know if it is Hawke, but you gotta admit, all the pieces just fit.  It’s suspicious.”

“As hell.  Thanks for bringing it to my attention, James.”

“Any time, Lola.  Any time.”

She motioned to the rest of the ground team and they gathered around so Shepard could give them one final brief before they shipped out.  "Here's what we know, thanks to a lot of hacking on EDI's part and Liara's Shadow Broker contacts. We're landing on one of Serao's moons, in the Hawking Eta system.  Triangulation of Cerberus communications in the area and the holo from the Illusive Man, plus some odd relay traffic patterns are leading us there.  Admiral Hackett sent some scout drones from the SSV _Virginia_ two hours ago and they returned with this.”

EDI pulled up video on a nearby terminal - reconnaissance footage from the drones.  The grainy footage didn’t last long, but they didn’t need more than the thirty-two seconds to show a boxy gray building tucked into the moon’s hills and Cerberus mechs patrolling the grounds.  

“And we are certain this is where they are holding the woman captive?” Javik asked as he eyed the footage skeptically.

Shepard motioned to EDI, who shut the vid off.  “Everything EDI and Liara has pulled together points to this base.  We didn’t even have it on our records as a Cerberus holding - hell, Hackett  or the Alliance didn’t even know there was anything on that damn moon besides rocks.”

“You are putting a lot of faith in a synthetic and your asari friend, Commander.”

Shepard started to speak up, but Garrus stopped her.  He turned on Javik, pointing a finger into the Prothean’s chest as he said, “You might want to tone it down, Javik.  Shepard knows what she’s doing, and so do EDI and Liara.  The information we have is good, and we need to rescue this woman.”  He pulled back, his gaze steady as he said, “So are you with us or not?  Could get messy down there, and last I checked, you were all for destroying anyone or anything that wanted to do business with the Reapers.  Cerberus, and the Illusive Man, think they can control the Reapers.  I’d say that qualifies.”

Javik scoffed.  “That is nonsense.  No one can control the Reapers.  They need to be destroyed.”

Garrus’s mandibles flared widely as he smiled, all teeth and ferocity as he grabbed his gun.  “Then you should enjoy going down there.”  He turned to Shepard.  “Ready when you, Shepard.”

Wrex smashed his fist into the palm of his other hand.  “Damn straight, let’s get this show on the road.”

Shepard grabbed her helmet and shoved it on.  “Then let’s do it.  Check comms and we’re gone.  Remember, this is a rescue operation.  Expect heavy resistance at all levels, especially inside the second level of the base where we suspect they’re holding this woman.”  She motioned to Cortez, who waved them toward the shuttles.  “Vega, EDI, you’re with me and Cortez.  Wrex, take Garrus and Javik down in the other shuttle and don’t follow too closely. If they have anti-aircraft we haven’t detected, it could be a rough landing.”   

Once aboard, Shepard took her customary place behind Cortez as he prepped for takeoff.  “EDI, anything from the base that we need to know about?”

EDI came up beside her.  “Nothing unusual, Shepard.”

“That’s what worries me.”  She waited until Vega had settled in the back of the shuttle before turning to EDI and saying, "EDI, can you do a search for stories that feature a woman named Hawke? I think they may be legends or folktales, very old, by a Sir Tethras."

EDI cocked her head. "What is this in reference to, Shepard?"

Shepard leaned back against the shuttle's cold metal hull and sighed. "Right now, following a hunch."

The AI nodded. "All right.  One moment....searching."  Three seconds later, EDI said, "Shepard, I've found fifteen references to Sir Tethras, or Varric Tethras, in academic literature focused on folklore and myths, more specifically concerned with the hero's journey and the work of scholar Joseph Campbell. Varric Tethras is purported to be the author of hundreds of adventure and romance novels and many of his stories involving a main character named Hawke still circulate in popular mythology in certain parts of the United States, Canada, and Europe."

Shepard was staring steadily at EDI as she took all this in. "Anything on whether this Varric Tethras was a real person?"

"The information is inconclusive. The identity of this man is part of the scholarly debate surrounding his works."

"And the woman he wrote about, Hawke?"

EDI was quiet for another moment before she said, "No evidence exists that she was real."  EDI gave her a curious look.  "Does this have anything to do with the woman Cerberus is keeping prisoner?"

Shepard let her head fall back against the wall of the shuttle. "Damn your quantum computing. The short answer is yes....well, maybe." She let out a frustrated breath. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."  
  


* * *

 

Isabela watched as Merrill bent down near the broken stalk of a plant and brought the leaves near her face.  “Something interesting about that plant, kitten?”

Merrill sniffed once and let the branch go, then stood to face the others.  “He’s been here.  No more than a day or two ahead of us.”  She put a hand to the ground and closed her eyes.  A pulse of green light flashed and then disappeared just as quickly into the dirt.  “We should be careful.  Something is very wrong here.”

Varric looked up at the black birch trees heavy with leaves before raising an eyebrow.  “You aren’t kidding.  I’ve never been given the creeps just from trees before, and I’m a surface dwarf.”

Fenris whipped around, sword in hand, which made all the others turn to face an unseen enemy.  “This place feels wrong,” he said quietly as he shook his head.  “I feel like my ears and eyes are being tricked.”

“The forest has ways of protecting itself from harm.  This place is old, and has slept for many years.  Old memories, old magic linger here,” Merrill said in a subdued tone.  “We’d better keep moving if we’re going to find Anders.  But don’t touch anything, especially not the trees.  We don’t want to wake them up.”

Merrill led them down a rocky path, her eyes darting about the twilight forest, watching for things only she could sense.  Isabela shot Varric a dark look and mouthed, “Don’t want to wake them up?”  He just shrugged in response and edged a little further away from the side of the makeshift trail, that much closer to the pirate.  For once, she didn’t crack any jokes.

After several heavy minutes of silence, Varric’s tongue got the better of him.  “You going to be able to contain yourself around Blondie when we find him, Fenris?” he asked in a near-whisper, his normally warm voice rough as he tried to keep it low.

The hand gripping his sword tightened and his dark brows drew down but Fenris’s voice was steady as he replied, “Yes.  He is our only way to Hawke, so yes.”

“Good enough.”  

They started walking down a steep hill into a dark ravine, Merrill lighting the way with her magic.  It was rough going, darting around rocks and tree roots as thick as a man’s thigh and avoiding slick patches of mud and ice.  More than once, hands reached out to grab another’s flailing limb or steady a companion’s balance.  When they were at the bottom, Varric let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.  “Andraste’s bloody knickers, why do we always have to be going up or down hills?” he muttered under his breath.  “Have you all forgotten there’s a dwarf traveling with you?”

Fenris let out a one-note laugh, more a bark than anything else. “Would you like me to carry you, Varric?”

Varric’s lips twitched into an almost smile.  “Think you’re man enough, Fenris?”

“Now that I’d pay to see,” Isabela said to Merrill as the two men bantered back and forth.

Merrill gave Isabela a curious look.  “What?  Fenris carrying Varric?  You’ve seen that before.  Remember,  a few years ago when he took a pommel to the head in the caves and got knocked out?  Fenris picked him up and started to carry him.”

“Yes, but Hawke rushed over and took Varric from him.  Fenris had him for all of three seconds before Hawke was right there.  Like she always is.”

Merrill’s bright green eyes darkened in sadness for a moment at the mention of Hawke’s name and opened her mouth to say something in reply when movement to her right made her whip her head around.  She cast a fireball spell and held it aloft, ready to launch it at the intruder.

Swords, daggers, and a crossbow named Bianca were instantly at the ready and four sets of eyes were trained on the dark thing hovering in fog and twilight of the woods.

Utter silence filled their ears until all they could hear were the steady beats of their hearts.  Greener warriors, rogues and mages would have been soiling their pants by now.  Years spent traveling with and fighting by Zoey Hawke’s side could steel even the weakest of wills.

An explosion of sound and movement was carried on black wings. The raven that they’d startled flew right at them, then was gone.  Varric cursed, as did Isabela.  Merrill let out a little laugh, and Fenris rolled his eyes in disgust at their own cowardice.  

“And here I thought you were all seasoned warriors.”

Varric didn’t drop Bianca but came damn close as the trees parted and Anders appeared before them.  It had been nearly six months since he’d blown up the Chantry and brought hell down on the city of Kirkwall.  Six months since he’d betrayed their trust and murdered hundreds of people in the name of vengeance.

Six months since he’d broken Hawke’s heart.  And when he asked her to kill him, she couldn’t do it and instead told him to leave and never show his face to her again.

He looked old, Varric thought as he watched the lines creasing the mage's face tighten in a grimace before he raised his staff.  Fenris reacted immediately, body moving in a swift line, sword arcing through the air to come within a hair's breadth of Anders' throat. The others had their weapons out too but no one had moved as fast as the Tevinter elf.

"Fenris," Varric said warningly, and that was enough. They had talked about this the previous night, once Isabela and Merrill had fallen asleep to the sound of the fire popping and the hum of their low chatter. They'd come to an accord - Fenris would keep his hatred of the mage in check if Varric would let him play the muscle, so to speak.  If Fenris could funnel his long-held anger into the role of enforcer, Varric was content to let him scare the piss out of Anders.

To Anders' credit, and the fuming rage of Fenris, the mage didn't flinch, even when the tip of the sword drew a pinprick of blood.  

"Well, it's lovely to see all of you as well," Anders said without a note of sarcasm as he held his gaze steady on Varric. "I thought we were under agreement that this was to never happen, though."  His eyes narrowed briefly as he looked at the four of them, opened his mouth to say the name that was on all their minds, and thought better of it.

"It's Hawke," Isabela drawled, spinning the handle of a dagger casually between her hands.  "She's in trouble."

"We wouldn't be here otherwise, Varric said as he stepped forward to put a hand on Fenris's arm.  The arm lowered a fraction, hesitated, then dropped all the way when Varric shot its owner a heated glare.  Fenris backed up a few paces, sword at the ready.....just in case.

"I figured as much," Anders said quietly as he drew himself upright and readjusted his tattered robes. "A few weeks ago, something in the Veil shifted. I felt it and I'm betting every mage did.  Kicked like a horse, but when the pain was gone, something else felt -"

"Wrong," Merrill finished in a hoarse voice.  "I felt it, too. I didn't know what had happened but it made sense once Varric sent word about Hawke."

Anders turned curious eyes toward the dwarf, who was clearly struggling with what to say.  "You sought me out, Varric.  You came all this way for _my_ help, so it must be bad."  He took a step forward and Fenris growled a warning, making Anders hesitate, but only for a moment.  His staff lowered and he said, "Tell me what happened."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very long chapter ahead. Also, character death and some serious angst inside - you've been warned. Next update in 10 - 14 days or so!

Cortez and Vega brought the shuttles in around the back of the Cerberus base and they hit the ground hard.  EDI and Liara did their best to get them under Cerberus’s radar, and it worked long enough so they didn’t land in the middle of a battle zone.

At least, not right away.  They fought a battalion of Cerberus mechs and troops who came pouring out of the base’s doors, intent on stopping them before they reached the long concrete runway between the fighter hanger and entrance.

“Garrus, take Wrex and Javik and head east.  Stay on comms at all times!” Shepard shouted as the first batch of stun grenades came hurtling through the air.  Everyone averted their eyes but the grenades still had an effect.  Ears ringing, eyes watering, Shepard motioned to Vega and EDI as they broke off from the others to head in the opposite direction.

“Be careful, Shepard,” Garrus said, his eyes meeting hers briefly.  She didn’t get a chance to answer, only nod once before he rounded a corner and the sounds of battle and him barking orders filled her ears.  

“We’re on the move!  We’ve got Cerberus troops up ahead, take them out,” she said as they ran up against a blockade.  It was evident that Cerberus didn’t want them getting past the doors.  

“Shepard, I track more mechs on the way and someone inside the base just sent out a distress call,” EDI said as they ducked behind a concrete barrier.  Vega lobbed a grenade into a group of mechs; the resulting explosion sent hot bits of metal all over the Cerberus troops behind them.

“Tell me you scrambled it all to hell,” Shepard said before she leaned out over the barricade and set off a biotic charge at the oncoming troops.  Bodies went flying and there were a few less Cerberus guns on the ground when she popped her head up, aimed, and fired to take out three more.

“EDI stopped the call, but it bounced to a second destination, Shepard,” Liara said over the comms.  This gave EDI a chance to take out the sniper above them.  “From what I can tell, the call went out to the Illusive Man.”

“You mean he’s not on the base?” Wrex said, anger palpating his words like gunshots.  “That slimy bastard, I’ll - “

“You talk too much during battle, krogran,” Javik said.  “You should be relishing the fall of your enemies.”

“I like your style, Prothean.”

“I do not like yours, krogan.”

“Cut the chatter,” Shepard growled, “we have a mission to complete.  Garrus, status?”

“Nearly inside the east docking bay doors, Shepard.  Not as much resistance here, which is good but it’s also a little concerning.”

Shepard looked at  Vega, who had just popped the last of the Cerberus troops.  He gave her the all clear, and she peered around the barricade before hurtling over it.  “Stay sharp, all of you.  Garrus, you find anything that points to where they’re keeping this woman, you let me know.  We rendezvous on the second level.  Take out anything in your way that so much as looks like Cerberus.”  She motioned Vega and EDI forward and they began to move toward the doors.  “Liara, anything?”

“More troops just inside, Shepard.  They’ll be at your position in under two minutes.”

“And the Illusive Man?”

“As far as I can tell, he isn’t on the base.  But a woman named Meredith Kang is - she’s the head scientist for this facility and if you can take her alive, you might get some answers.”

“Send everyone her file.”  They pulled up short outside the docking bay’s doors and Shepard punched the control pad, only to watch it light up red.  “Dammit.  EDI, see if you can’t get this thing open.”

A few seconds later, Shepard and Vega’s omnitools lit up showing the unsmiling but unmistakably dour face of a blonde woman named Meredith Kang.  “You heard Liara,” Garrus said over the comms.  “We’re taking this woman alive.”  There was a moment of silence, then some colorful cursing from Wrex before Garrus said, “Shepard, we’re in the east docking bay.  It’s quiet so far - “ An eruption of gunfire cut him off and Shepard ground her teeth until her jaw ached.

“EDI, how is that door coming?”

EDI stepped back as the control panel flashed green.  “I’m reading several heat signatures on the other side of the door, Shepard.”

Shepard looked at her and Vega before she slammed a fist against the control panel.  “Then be ready.”

Clearing the docking bay wasn’t easy by any means.  It was painfully clear that Cerberus was going to do anything it could to keep Shepard away from the red-haired woman they had locked up in one of their labs.  And even as they blew through wave after wave of shock troopers and mechs, Shepard couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something.

And by the time the last piece would be played, it might be too late.

“West docking bay clear,” she said into the comm as they secured the doors behind them and took cover in a nearby storage room.  She didn’t admit that she was taking the time to check weapons and catch their breath as much as she was waiting for Garrus to respond.

“Took you long enough, Shepard” Garrus said as Vega gave her a thumbs-up to signal he and EDI were good to go.  “We’re moving ahead to the rendezvous point now.”

Shepard let out a little laugh.  “Don’t get too cocky, Vakarian.  They might have an Atlas waiting for you.  I know you’re not a big fan of those.”

“Let them come,” Javik said.  “I will take them all out.”

Shepard could practically hear Liara’s eye roll through comm before she said, “All of you need to be even more cautious up ahead.  Power is being diverted from the main reactors to the stairwells leading to the second floor.  My guess is - “

“Traps,” EDI finished.  “Mostly laser activated.”

“Fucking great,” Vega grumbled.  “Probably shrapnel.  That’s what they had on Noveria, and they were activated the same way.”

“EDI, Liara, any way to disable them?” Shepard asked as she peered around the corner of the room they were hiding in.  Shadows were moving in their direction and she jerked her head to Vega.  He grinned and leaned around her to take a look.

Liara and EDI started talking and after a few moments, Liara said, “We can disable them, but doing so will alert the troops in the area to your location, Shepard.  Right now, the chatter I’m picking up from their comms suggests that they haven’t located your team or Garrus’s.”

“Sneak attack, it’s a been a while,” Garrus mused.  “Kind of hard to do that with a krogan and a shoot-first, ask later Prothean but maybe-”

“Garrus, don’t blow your cover,” Shepard warned.  “We’ll move ahead.  I need you to secure us a way back out if things go south.  When we reach the second level, we’ll radio you.  Stay low and keep the troops off of us if reinforcements come your way.”

“Got it.  You heard her,” he said to Javik and Wrex.  “We’re Shepard’s backup.”  In a lower voice, he said, “Be careful up there, Shepard.  No telling what the Illusive Man planted in your way.”

“I know.”  She motioned to Vega and EDI and they moved around the edge of the room into a better tactical position.  “Just keep safe and keep them off of us.”

With a quick jerk of her hand, they pressed forward and met the wave of Cerberus troops heading straight at them from the other side of the corridor.

 

* * *

 

Varric stared at Anders for several long moments.  “You can’t be serious.”

Anders looked up briefly from the ball of light between his hands, his brow furrowing.  “Isn’t that what you came to me for?  I’m telling you that I might be able to get to Hawke and now you’re doubting that I’m serious.”  He chuckled weakly.  “I must admit, that’s a bit confusing, Varric.”

Varric rubbed a hand across his brow and blew out a breath.  “I just - figured it was such a long shot.  And now you’re telling me you might actually be able to do this?”

Anders shrugged, like what he was suggesting wasn’t some mind-bending feat of magic.  “I’ve learned quite a bit about my powers since I’ve been in the forest, Varric.  Justice and I have….come to an accord of sorts.”  He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Varric’s briefly before saying in a subdued voice, “After what happened in Kirkwall-”

Varric held up a hand.  “Nope.  Not going there, Anders.  You do this, get Hawke back, and maybe we’ll talk.  But for right now, that topic is strictly off limits, especially if you don’t want one of us to take your head off.”

Anders raised an eyebrow at that, body tensing against the threat.  “Even you?”

Varric stood and came closer to the mage, whose eyes had begun to glow blue around the edges.  “Especially me.”  He brushed past Anders and said over his shoulder, “So get busy.  Hawke is probably in some kind of inexplicable danger and I’m not there to save her.”

Anders stared after him for a moment, pushing down on the force that was Justice - _Vengeance_ \- and swallowed hard.  He refocused his eyes back down on the energy between his hands and felt around for the faint thread he’d picked up earlier.

But he wasn’t so focused that he missed the look that passed between Varric and Fenris, or the way Merrill was keeping her distance on the edges of shadows and firelight.  Or especially the way Isabela kept twirling her daggers, the points glinting dangerously.  They were all afraid of him and what he could do, what he had done.  He didn’t blame them in the least.  He knew how dangerous he was.  He knew what he was.

What they didn’t know was what it would take to get Hawke back.  He hadn’t quite gotten around to telling Varric that.  It had been hard enough to make the man believe that he could bring her back to begin with and that he thought he'd be able to reach her through the Fade.  He’d been searching for her for hours before he’d found any trace of her magic, and it had been in the strangest place - a _tear_ in the Fade.  He hadn’t known such things could exist but there it was, staring him in the face like a gaping wound, black and consuming on the other side.

He waited until Varric was a safe distance away before centering his mind on that tear and reaching out, trying to find a way through it so he could follow the traces of Hawke he'd sensed earlier and told the dwarf about.

The effort it took to put a hand inside that tear and pull it open left him panting and shaking, but what it revealed was stunning.  A star-studded sky and a landscape of gray sand, this vast emptiness of black sky and hollow-colored land should have been cold but he could feel her like a warm hand at his back.  And Anders knew he was on the right track.  

He wandered that landscape for some time, searching, but something felt different.  Odd.  Passing through the tear had weakened Justice by degrees and the longer they stayed here, the worse it became; but the longer they stayed here, the more he could feel Hawke.  It was as if they’d been pulled into a desert and she was the illusion, the oasis that was fooling them.  One minute, he’d swear he was hearing her deep-throated chuckle he’d come to know so well over nearly a decade.  Or he’d get a whiff of the vanilla oil she favored and he’d turn to barely miss seeing the flash of her red hair out of the corner of his eye.

He stopped wandering aimlessly, caught up in memories of better times when she appeared before him, smiling and dressed only in a thin tunic and pants.  His nightmare.  His dream.  The person who had stood beside him and had given him hope and shelter and friendship.  And love.  

She’d loved him and he’d loved her but he could never let her get close enough.  If she’d loved him enough to be more than friends, that had waned years ago.  What had remained, then grown, became something even more important.  

Trust.

And he’d broken that with a lie, a false promise, a few hundred pages feverishly edited and copied over and over again, and a bomb.  

_“You shouldn’t be here, Anders.”_

_That made him smile.  It felt foreign, the movement of muscles upward, the way the expression pulled at the deep lines on his face.  “I shouldn’t be here?  Or you shouldn’t be?”_

_And that made her shake her head, a gesture that spoke of sadness.  “Always the smartass.”  She stepped closer.  Anders saw she was holding her spine rigid, a warding posture he knew well after years spent in her company.  “ I don’t even know where this is, so I’m certain you shouldn’t be here.”  She blinked quickly, swallowed hard.  “I’m not in our world anymore, Anders. This man used a portal to pull me to his world and they're trying to use my magic as a weapon." She looked around, eyes flitting across the barren landscape.  "And I come here every time I sleep, instead of the Fade.  And now I’m here all the time and it’s not right.  What they’re doing….it’s not right.  ”_

_Anders didn’t move, afraid that if he so much as breathed wrong she’d disappear from him and he’d never get the chance he’d been yearning for ever since Kirkwall and the Chantry.  So he started with, “I know, Hawke.  I came looking for you.  Varric sent me.”_

_That got her attention - a quick intake of breath and suddenly, her eyes were focused sharply on him.  “What?”  Her hand reached out as if to grab him, then she thought better of it.  “Tell me.  Is he all right?”_

_He nodded.  “He’s fine, Hawke.  They all are.”  He allowed himself a small smile.  “They’ve been looking for you ever since you disappeared and from what I understand, they exhausted every option they had before they came to me.”_

_Hawke snorted.  “I’m not surprised.”  The moment hung between them - unspoken, just the memory of dust and ash and screams as the Chantry burned and the knife was in her hand and he sat before her, asking her for death.  And she had refused.  It burned her eyes and thickened his tongue and rooted both of them in their places.  In that tear between worlds, the memory lived and breathed and cemented them in their own thoughts for what felt like an eternity._

_She moved toward him slowly, closing the distance, and reached out to touch his face.  He almost hissed at the contact, wanting to tear away from her but unable to resist her warmth.  He was always cold and she felt like fire, energy and magic pouring off her skin and he couldn’t help himself.  He ached to touch her, to be near her one more time._

_The slap didn’t hurt but it didn’t break his grip on her, either.  What broke him were the tears in her eyes.  “I would have done anything,” she said in a dry whisper, “anything to keep you safe.”  Her fingers curled into his shoulders and she shook him.  “Why, Anders?”_

_He closed his eyes and swallowed against the bile rising in his throat.  Guilt, the thing that he didn’t think he would feel over what he had done, flashed hot and aching over him in the face of her question.  When he opened his eyes to look at her, he could see her need for an answer.  And he found he had none to give her.  There was nothing he could say to make what he had done vanish from her memories.  There was no taking it all back, and he wouldn’t, given a second chance._

_Nothing would bring back the dead, or her trust in him.  It was easier to let her think him a monster than let her hang onto a shred of hope that he could still be saved._

_So he gave into the vilest, basest of his own needs, pressed her body against hers, and kissed her.  Hard.  Roughly.  With teeth and tongue.  She fought him and he held onto her and tasted her tears and heard Justice roar in the back of his mind and tried not to let his own body get too heated at the way she felt against him._

_Hawke shoved him, hard, when he bit her bottom lip and he stumbled backwards, tripped, and hit the ground.  A rush of wind and sound hit him and it pinned him in place for a moment.  When he could finally pull himself up, he expected to see Hawke, red-faced, fists clenched, breathing hard and ready to hit him._

_But instead, she was on fire before him.  A goddess of wrath and flame, pure and true.  He shook at the sight of all that power encased in one person.  Her magic called to him, stirring deep inside his chest.  It wrapped around his heart and squeezed and for a moment, he thought she might kill him._

_The moment broke when Hawke groaned, low and deep in her throat, almost as if she was saying, “No.”  Her fire flickered out just before she dropped to her knees.  He rushed over and fell beside her, watching as her face contorted in pain._

_He knew he didn’t have much time left as she arched and let out scream, and he could only sit beside her, horrified.  “Hawke, I….I can get the others to you.  I can.  But it’s a one-way trip.  I can send the others to where you are but I can’t bring you back through.  Whatever pulled you to the world you’re in is stronger than anything I’ve ever encountered, but I can hold open the hole they used just long enough to get the others to you.”_

_Hawke shook her head.  “No, Anders - this world is so d-different.”  She was shaking now, her body racked with pain.  “They won’t survive here.”_

_“I think they’re willing to take that chance.”  He pulled her to him and gently swept her hair off her face.  “I know I would be.”_

_Her eyes raised to his.  “I never wanted to see you again, and you’re trying to help me.  I don’t understand.”  She gave a weak laugh.  “I can’t even scream at you properly for that kiss.”_

_He smiled.  Typical Hawke.  “You didn’t kill me when you had the chance, when you should have.  I’m a murderer and a coward, Hawke.  My fate isn’t in your hands.”  The glow of his magic encased her but it only beat back the pain a little.  When his magic merged with her, images flashed before him and what he saw troubled him deeply._

_A man with deep-set blue eyes.  Cold metal tables and bottles full of noxious looking liquids.  Hawke strapped down for hours on end while people milled around her, poking and prodding and causing her pain.  Men in strange armor with stranger weapons, their faces scarred and hardened to Hawke’s screams of pain._

_Hawke, unconscious on that table.  More needles and cold, thin metal knives and a blonde woman leaning over her.  Liquid running in tubes from Hawke to a tank behind her and back again and the words, “It won’t be long now, sir.”_

_Hawke on fire, burning and burning and destroying everything in her path._

_Millions of dead while a giant black demon in the sky delivered more death._

_War.  Chaos.  Misery._

_Anders shuddered and he felt Justice shift under his skin, boosting his magic.  The protective cocoon around Hawke stabilized and it gave him just long enough to brush a kiss over her forehead before he whispered, “You gave me nearly ten years of friendship and love that I didn’t deserve.  I can ask nothing more of you than that.”_

_He looked at Zoey Hawke and whispered goodbye before he let her go._

* * *

 

  
Merrill was watching Anders’ blank eyes with some concern.  “What is he doing, Varric?”

Varric put a comforting hand on the elf’s arm.  “Honestly, Daisy, I’m not sure I want know.  And I know we shouldn’t trust him but from what he just told me….he might actually be able to get us to Hawke.”

“I can get you to Hawke, but it’s a one way trip.”  The group turned to see Anders walking slowly toward them.  He looked, for lack of a better turn of phrase, like he’d just seen a ghost.  “I hope you’re all prepared for that.”

Questions were launched at him left and right, mostly concerning Hawke’s well-being but he stopped them all with a hand.  “Hawke is alive, for now.  But we don’t have long.  If I’m going to get you to her, you need to go now.  Whoever has her is keeping her well-guarded and the world she’s in - well, it’s nothing like you’re used to.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fenris said, cutting off the others’ voices.  “We’re not resting until Hawke is safe.”

Anders sighed.  They had no idea what they would be facing, but he understood.  Part of him wished he could go with them.  He turned to the others.  “If the rest of you feel the same way, then pack up your belongings.  Take only what you can carry.”

Varric had started to repack his things when Anders quietly approached him.  “I know this is bold of me to ask, but I need you to do something for me.”

Varric pulled himself upright slowly and looked the mage up and down before saying, “Does this have anything to do with what happened while you were….with Hawke in the Fade?”

Anders tried to smile but the expression came off more as a grimace.  “We weren’t exactly in the Fade.  When she’s asleep or unconscious, she goes to a tear between the Fade and the world she’s currently in.  But to answer your question, yes and no.”  He pressed a small wrapped box and a sealed letter into Varric’s hand. “When you find her, when you think the time is right, will you give this to her?”

“Anders, I don’t know-”

“Varric, please.  I’ve already said my goodbyes to her but I’ve been carrying this with me for a while, before what happened in Kirkwall.”  Feeling a little bolder now that the weight he’d been hauling around was with Varric, he put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.  I know I don’t get the privilege of asking for a favor.”  He smiled slightly.  “So think of it as my last request.”

Varric watched the mage turn and walk away, his words sinking in slowly.  And he understood completely what Anders was about to do.  Varric found himself accepting it, even though he knew that Hawke would have a difficult time with the news when he told her.  

And he would be the one to tell her.  He always was.  He tucked the box and the letter into his coat and finished packing, then went to join the others, all the while feeling slightly off-kilter at the thought that they might finally be able to reach Hawke.

The other half of that thought - they were going to where she was, not bringing her back, and it was a one-way trip - was slightly more terrifying.

As he joined the others in a circle around Anders, Varric could see the fear - Isabela’s nervous twitch of her lips and drumming fingers on her thigh; Merrill’s quick breaths and big eyes; Fenris’s tight grip on his sword and the one look that passed between them belaying his nerves.

They weren’t stupid.  This was fucking terrifying, the thought of leaving the only world they knew and going somewhere completely foreign.  Anders had told them about what he saw as they were gathering around them - giant black things in the sky that killed so many people, the man who was holding Hawke captive, the soldiers with strange armor.

But Hawke needed them.  And so they were going.

No one spoke as Anders began to gather light between his hands, the glow blue and fairly normal looking for his magic.  In a way, the familiar light was comforting.  It encased them in warmth and while Varric heard Fenris grumble under his breath, the elf warrior kept still while the mage’s power spread over them.

“I can’t explain everything to you,” Anders said quietly as the light grew brighter.  “Just know that I’m using the hole, the gateway that was opened by the people who took Hawke to get you to her.  But I can only hold it open for so long.”  He looked at them each, his eyes meeting theirs briefly before he focused back down on the magic between his hands.  “So when I say go, you can’t hesitate.  From this moment, no matter what you see or hear, you must do as I instruct.  Do you understand?”

When everyone nodded their assent, Anders cupped the light between his hands, then shoved it firmly into his chest.  He staggered back as the cracks in his skin showed and he roared in pain.  His hands lashed out, light and energy shooting in beams from his fingers.  The air hung heavy and hot with magic.

Everyone fell back a pace but Anders said in a strangled voice, “Do not move!  You cannot leave the circle or you will break the ritual and I cannot repeat it again.”  They all froze, watching as Anders fought with the being inside of him.

The mage’s face flashed - Anders, Justice, Anders and back again - like a slow motion dance.  He turned his head away and no one could see just whose face settled there.  Quick as lightning, his hand slashed the empty space in front of him before Anders dropped to his knees.  His hand left behind a line of blue that stayed suspended in the dark air, jagged and glowing.

The light around and in Anders flickered, then went out.  The only sounds were the man’s heavy breaths and the hearts in the chests of the four gathered around him.  He rose shakily and the only things still glowing blue were his hands and his eyes.  “Are you ready?” he asked quietly as he reached for blue line of magic in the middle of the circle.

Varric let out a breath.  “Whenever you are, Blondie.”

Anders smiled at that.  “I’ll miss you calling me that, Varric.”

He put his fingers to that blue line and ripped it open and made a door from their world to where Hawke was.  It was nothing but blackness, like falling into a void and Anders was yelling at them to go, to run and go and find Hawke and save her.  And Isabela was tugging Merrill along and Fenris was running and Varric was right behind him.

And all the while Anders was as bright as the sun and he was watching them run toward the dark.  He was never the hero, he was never supposed to be the one to save the day.  

He was holding the door open for the ones still had parts to play and hoping they never looked back.  A look would kill him as surely as this was going to.

And they didn’t.  As his heart slowed, he saw Varric hesitate just before he went through the gateway, but the man chose to pat the bulge in his coat instead, and then he was gone.

He felt the Veil shift as they passed and once they were safely on the other side, he let the gateway shut.  Justice roared at him and Anders just smiled.  

Neither one of them deserved to live.

The stars and the moon were especially bright that evening but their light never quite reached the little campsite.  All the better, really.  No one needed to see the death of a possessed mage as he slowly broke apart and scattered on the wind, the magic he’d called and used tearing him to pieces.

In his life, he started a war.

With his death, he helped stop one.

The moment Anders died, three things happened.  Two of them were his fault.  One was not.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**One**

  
Wrex threw the last grenade over the barricade and blew the Atlas’s legs out from under it.  The Atlas tipped forward and fell, smoking.

The few remaining Cerberus troops saw imminent defeat and scattered, only to be taken out by Garrus’s sniper rifle.  As he climbed down from his perch, he saw Shepard peering around the corner she was ducked behind, not five hundred feet from the lab door where they now knew Cerberus was keeping the human captive.

“I say we go for it, Shepard.”

Shepard let out a frustrated growl.  “EDI, Liara, anything?  There is no way the Illusive Man is just going to let us walk in there.”

EDI shook her head.  “I read two heat signatures, the captured woman and the head scientist, Meredith Kang.”

“I’m getting the same thing, Shepard.”

Shepard looked over at Garrus.  “Do we chance it?”

He looked down the barrel of his rifle again.  “I can’t see any other troops.  Even if they do have turrets or other nasty surprises for us, they can’t take all six of us out, Shepard.”

“It is a tactical risk, Commander, but a worthwhile one,” Javik said from Shepard’s left.  “If this human is as powerful as you say, she would be a great weapon against the Reapers.”

Garrus hit a button on his omnitool to talk privately to Shepard.  “All right, what’s going on, Shepard?  You are the first person to go headlong into a risky situation.  What’s got you hesitating on this?”

Shepard shook her head.  “Something’s not right, Garrus.  I can feel it.”

He flipped his visor up so he could look at her properly.  “That’s that gut feeling thing again, huh?”  When she nodded, he said quietly, “Okay, so something is wrong.  But it may not be troops, or Cerberus.  Maybe this woman is sick, or they’ve done something to her.”

“Yeah, I know.  We need to find out.”  She did look at him then, her eyes dark through her helmet.  “We get outta here, we’ll talk later?”  He nodded slowly and she said, “Okay, we go in - Vega, you and Garrus are with me.  Wrex, follow us with EDI and Javik.  Cover every side.  I don’t want to get blown to hell six feet from our goal.”   

Shepard stood, motioned to Garrus and Vega to follow her, and advanced toward the lab door.

Nothing stopped them.  No troops, guns, turrets.  

Nothing.

The door to the lab was locked, but it took EDI fractions of a second to unlock it.  Shepard pounded the lock with a fist and there were six guns - one of them very large and very krogan, pointed inside the lab.

Meredith Kang was sitting calmly beside the red headed woman strapped to the table, a datapad in hand.  She looked up as the crew charged into the lab and drew down on her.

“There’s no need for all that,” she said in a clipped voice.  “Hawke’s all yours.”  She gestured toward the tank beside the lab table.  “If you can wake her up and handle her, of course.  The Illusive Man seems to think you’re up to the challenge, Commander, but I have my doubts.  I’ve read Operative Lawson’s reports on you and I must say, you’re impressive physically but otherwise, you’re quite ordinary.”

Shepard’s attention was too focused on the tank and the woman strapped to the table to pay much attention to the snippy Cerberus scientist.  “Wrex, watch her,” she ordered as she slowly walked over to the table.  

The lab was straight out of a horror tale.  Cold metal trays stocked with sharp tools and long needles; shelves of vile looking liquids; long wires and tubes crisscrossing the room in a spiderweb pattern that they had to navigate to get to Hawke. But Shepard's attention was distracted by the tank and as she drew closer, it became evident that it wasn't just filled with experimental chemicals.

“Holy hell,” Vega said under his breath as he followed, Garrus at their heels.  “Is that-”

“A Reaper,” Garrus finished as he leaned forward to examine the tank and the tubes that lead from it to Hawke.  “They hooked her up to a Reaper.”  The mostly intact remains of what had been a turian, now a Reaper scout, was floating in the tank.

“Still in its experimental phases,” Kang said helpfully from the corner where Wrex had shoved her.  “Hawke is unique in so many ways and we knew if we were going to start melding organics with Reapers, she was the perfect specimen-”

“EDI, get everything off their servers,” Shepard said in a low voice.  “Liara, back her up.”  She nodded to Wrex, and the krogan snatched the datapad from Kang’s hand and tossed it to EDI, who immediately began downloading the information from it.

Shepard motioned to Garrus and he came to the other side of the table.  They both looked down at the unconscious woman for a few moments before Shepard said, “Any ideas?”

“As of right now?  I could shake her if you want.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.  “Probably a bad idea, big guy.”  She jerked her head at Kang and Wrex shoved the scientist over to the table.  “Wake her up.”

Kang shrugged, a slight smile on her face.  “I can’t.”

Shepard crossed her arms.  “What do you mean you can’t?”

Kang sighed.  “She is in a deep symbiotic relationship with the Reaper at this point.  If I just wake her up now, the disconnect will likely kill her.  And none of us want that.”

Shepard leaned over the table and glared at the woman.  “And what were you planning on doing with her once the….symbiosis was complete?”

That made Kang smile.  “She is going to help us control the Reapers, Commander.  Didn’t you already have this conversation with the Illusive Man?

Shepard’s eyes flashed and she pointed a finger at the woman.  “You don’t -”

A deep rumble shook the floor and the walls, making the crew look around, then to Kang.  “That wasn’t Cerberus,” she said, her eyes wide.  “We wouldn’t risk harming our investment.”  And she looked fondly over at Hawke.

Shepard wanted to punch her.  “Shepard, I’m picking up some strange readings just inside the east docking bay doors and a massive dark energy output,” Liara said over the comms just as alarms started to blast all over the building.

Javik had his hand around the scientist’s throat before anyone could stop him.  “What did you do?”

“It wasn’t me!” she choked out.  “We only used that kind of energy when we brought Hawke to this world, and we didn’t do it here!”

“EDI, what are we looking at?” Shepard asked as she pulled off her gloves.

“Four heat signatures heading our way, Shepard.”

“What are you doing?”  Garrus asked, worry in his voice

Shepard gently moved around Garrus and approached Hawke.  “Waking her up.”

 

* * *

  
**Two**

 

A dwarf, two elves, and a pirate passed from their world into another, coughing and wiping darkness from their eyes.  They landed feet away from what looked like a battle zone just inside of a strange building.

Isabela helped Merrill to her feet and Fenris hauled Varric up and they all took stock of each other.  Everything was tingling and cold and they were covered in black dust.

“Anyone missing any limbs?” Varric said as he carefully looked over Bianca.

Fenris stalked the perimeter, headed for one of the bodies, when a rapid staccato sound had him ducking for a low stone barrier.  “Fasta vass, what is that?”

The others rushed to him and crouched by the barrier, looking around for the source of the noise.  It grew quiet, then a louder sound rattled the windows above their heads.

“Maker’s furry nutsack, what the hell?”

Isabela laughed quietly.  “Sounds like a battle.”

Merrill gripped her staff tightly. “Doesn’t sound like any battle I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, Anders did say they had armor and weapons here different from ours.”  Varric nodded toward the dead soldiers.  “Let’s see what we’ve got over there.  But let’s do it quickly, Hawke is here somewhere.”

The armor was awkward but not as heavy as what they were used to but the weapons - now those were strange.  “Maybe we should just carry them,” Merrill suggested as she carefully examined a pistol.  “I don’t even know what this does.”

Isabela pushed the gun away from the mage’s face.  “My guess is that, like a dagger, you don’t want to point a certain end at your face.”  She nodded toward the gun.  “Be careful with that, kitten.  I wouldn’t use it unless you have to.  Your magic still works here, right?”

Merrill hesitated, then raised a green ball of light over her head and launched it into the air, where it exploded with a pop.  “It feels a little weird, but yes, it still works.”

“Best stick with that then, Daisy.  I bet they don’t get many mages here,” Varric said as he came over to them, Bianca in hand.

“Where’s your - thing, Varric?” Isabela asked as she gestured toward her pistol.

Varric sniffed.  It sounded more like a snort through the helmet, but Isabela understood it anyways.  “That’s not a weapon, Rivaini.  If you think I’m giving up Bianca for that hunk of - “

“Over here!” Fenris called out from the stairwell on the far side of the room.  “Unless you’ve all forgotten why we’re here?”

The three went to the elf, who was dressed head to toe in the uniform of the dead guards.  The visor on the helmet was flipped up so they could see his dark green eyes as he spoke.  “I do not know where Hawke is but we aren’t alone in this building.  Be on your guard.  These weapons are strange but I think I’ve figured out how it works.”  He pulled the gun from his hip, hefted it, aimed at a body across the room, and pulled the trigger.

The body jumped but the rest of his shots went wide, hitting the floor and the wall behind the body.  Fenris was thrown back a little and Varric stifled a chuckle at the surprised look on the elf’s face.

“Not quite like a sword, eh elf?”

The glare Fenris shot him spoke volumes.

Varric nodded at the others.  “Well, at least we look the part.  Come on, let’s find Hawke....carefully.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by the ever wonderful SpectreAntiHero. I'd pretty much be lost without her help :)

**Three**

Hawke felt nothing, then everything.

Everything was empty - the air, her breath, her body.  

And then it was all on fire, the flames so hot and bright she couldn’t stand it any longer. She didn’t want it anymore. She couldn’t stand the feeling of confinement. It was like ants were crawling under her skin, making her desperate to get out.

_Let me go. **Let me go.**_

Hawke wanted free.  With a rage that she didn’t know was in her, she snarled as she opened her eyes to see a woman with dark hair and bright blue eyes standing over directly her. She didn’t immediately know who the woman was, but the woman’s fingers were just a few inches shy of her face and all she felt was the fire that was her rage.

She couldn’t see or feel anything else and so she reacted in a way that the voice inside wanted her to - her hand shot out and wrapped around the woman's throat, squeezing the very breath from her lungs. For a few moments, all Hawke felt was the heat and flames of her temper. It took a few long moments before she came to the realization that the woman was no Cerberus buffoon.  

It wasn’t just anyone who could take her on, especially not any of the so-called soldiers in the Illusive Man’s employ. The woman pulled away, quickly backpedaling to get out of Hawke’s reach and for the moment Hawke lost sight of her.

Hawke didn’t remember getting up from the table or ripping out the cords that were embedded into her skin, but she must have because the next thing she knew she was standing for the first time in what had to be weeks with arms dripping with her own blood and bruises quickly forming as flames danced across her skin.  The room had turned into chaos as she stared at those around her with wrath in her eyes.

A mass of shouting in muffled alarm made her eardrums sting and voices filled with concern were shouting out to Shepard and telling Hawke to stand down. The soldiers behind the woman she’d tried to strangle raised weapons of similar build to the ones Cerberus had in her direction as they moved around her, making a loose circle surrounding her. Again, wrath rose up in her stomach and she growled at them as she threw them all to the side, tossing them like toys.

The scream that tore from her was born of pain and anger and wrath.  She wanted to be free.  

_Let me go, let me go._

_Leave me in peace._

**_Please, just let me die._ **

The people she’d smashed against the walls were struggling to their feet.  A big one, all red and gold ( _krogan,_ the voice in her head whispered) was shouting and gesturing and Hawke turned to see the woman who had been bent over her moments ago rising and yelling back.

And Hawke gathered up her voice, drawing it from the depths of her lungs so she could shout at them, make them all stop - _they have to stop, it all has to stop… If they won’t stop, I’ll kill them and find a way to freedom myself._

Just as she was about to send another blast of power at the soldiers volleying against her, the door to the lab slid open and four Cerberus troops stumbled in. The rage that Hawke had felt before paled in the presence of those who had kidnapped, tortured and defiled her.

Her eyes all but sending out flames themselves, Hawke screeched at the new arrivals. Her tormentors, her jailers were in front of her, willing victims waiting for her to put her fingers in their brains and wiggle them around and watch them die. At last she would finally be able to defend herself against them, to exact some retribution. The very thought almost made her giddy as she ignored the soldiers from before to turn on the very people she knew as her enemies.

“Hawke, no! Stop!”

She was reaching out with fire and wrath and hate, inches away from burning them all, when the smallest of the uniformed men pulled his helmet off and then who couldn’t be there, was.

“Varric?”

As she fell to her knees at the sight of the man in front of her, the others pulled off their helmets. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her, how else were her friends here? Hawke couldn’t trust her eyes. There was no way that they had made it to her, to help her. An internal war raged within her, her head saying that it wasn’t possible while her heart told her that it was true. All the while, her brain screamed at her and the flames licked at her skin, wanting, waiting to be used. Finally, she shook it off and turned towards the people she couldn't believe were standing in front of her. It really was them, her comrades and friends. They had come for her. They were there.  

 _Varric was there._  

As he rushed toward her, a dozen emotions danced across his face, most too quick to recognize.  What settled there was a curious combination of relief and what looked like a heavy dose of heat of the moment thinking.  He didn’t get the chance to act on it, though. There was a small snick sound that registered in the silence of their reunion.

Hawke turned once again to see the gun barrels pointing in her direction and spun on a knee before standing, drawing up a protective barrier between them and the threat.  The fire leapt back to life, dousing her form.  “Do not think to threaten them,” she growled out.  “It will be the last thing you do.”

She felt the warmth of the others behind her, close but not near enough to touch.  And she knew what she must look like - covered in fire, bleeding and sickly thin – barely even strong enough to stand on her own.  But she would protect them.  She would always protect them.

The six strangers on the other side of the barrier just stared at her for a moment before the woman came to her, approaching slowly like one would a wounded wild animal.  She tossed a glance at those behind her, making a gesture that had them lowering their weapons, before she spoke.  “I’m Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy,” she said, her voice slightly raw from when Hawke had grabbed her by the throat.  “I know it might not look like it, but we are here to rescue you, Hawke.”

Hawke reacted as if she’d been hit, tensing at the sound of her own name.  But as she stared at the woman hard, the other woman’s face slowly registered in the back of her mind.   _Commander Shepard. The fault line. The woman who fights the Reapers._  "How do you know my name?” she hissed.

In a soothing gesture, she shook her head and reached out a hand slowly. “That’s not important right now, Hawke,” the woman said, coming even closer.  “We need to get everyone off the base and back on my ship.  I need you safe, away from Cerberus and the Illusive Man.” She paused to let this sink into Hawke’s mind before continuing, a stress on the next sentence that came from her mouth, “We aren’t your enemies, Hawke.  Can you trust me enough to let me get you to safety? I promise no harm will come to you or your-”  Her eyes flitted to the four strangers behind Hawke.  “Is that your team?”

Hawke nodded once, slowly.  “It is.”

“Then they’re coming with us, too.”  The woman motioned to one of the other soldiers, who touched a hand to his helmet and started talking. “Javik, go with Vega to get the shuttles.”  

Another followed the armored soldier and pair began to advance toward Hawke and her barrier. The commander said, “Hawke, I need you to let my men through.  They’re going to get us transportation off this planet so we can get to safety.  They mean you no harm.  So I need you to take the barrier down.”  Again, her tone of voice was soothing, trying to maintain the tentative calm of the moment.

Hawke hesitated, and then froze when Javik came closer.  She heard the quick intakes of breath from the others behind her when they got a good look at his features.  Their reactions were from fear and wonderment; hers was from familiarity.

“I know you,” she said, dropping the barrier.  “I know your face.”

Javik froze as Hawke came toward him and the commander was talking to the alien in the background, but it was all static to Hawke. _Prothean_ , her mind whispered.   _This one you know.  He is old, older than anyone here.  He is of us, but not of the gods._  

“Commander,” Javik said, a growl in his voice as Hawke stopped mere inches from him and looked him dead on. There was a look of wonderment across her face as she stared. Hawke and the Prothean were of a similar height, but his sheer bulk made her look small.  

“Javik, don’t antagonize her,” the commander replied tersely, which earned her a snort or two from the people at her back.  Still, they gripped their guns hard as they watched Hawke reach out a curious hand towards him and run her fingers over his face.

He didn’t flinch, body frozen in place, his breath barely moving her hair.  “I know your face,” she whispered.  “Prothean.  So old.  So lost.”  Her eyes snapped to his.  “Lost like me.”

His hands shot out and grabbed her by the arms, lifting her off the ground a few inches. “What would you know of it, of me?” he snarled.

Hawke put her hands firmly on his face so he couldn’t twist away and said, “I know your pain, Javik.  I’ve seen it.”  Her eyes slipped to the right to look at the tank, a haunted look shadowing her face.  “I’ve seen it all.”

He dropped her and she landed hard, dazed but unhurt.  As her head spun, she shut her eyes against the waves of nausea that threatened to overtake her.  In her disorientation, she missed the way Javik fled, not waiting for Vega to follow as he headed for the shuttles or the way that Vega’s eyes didn’t leave her and her companions until he was out of sight.

Her companions rushed to her side, their hands on her to make sure that she was okay, and Hawke felt – for the first time in what seemed like ages – safe.  The feeling warmed every inch of her skin in a way that the flames never could and she wanted to wrap herself in it and stay there.  

Merrill was whispering Dalish spells in her ear and Hawke closed her eyes, absorbed in the familiar feeling of the elf’s magic working on her wounds. Fenris wasn't moving from his post at her side, his eyes constantly flitting between her and the strangers on the other side of the room, ever wary, his fingers gripping the handle of his sword tightly. Isabela stood just in front of her, worry creasing her face, but she acted like she wasn't sure what to do as she held her daggers out in the open as a safeguard against possible attacks.

And Varric was holding her hand and looking straight into her eyes.  Searching, seeking answers with just a glance.  "We can trust her," Hawke said in a soft voice, rough with exhaustion. "She's not our enemy here, Varric."

He brushed strands of limp hair gently back from her sweaty face, his eyes probing hers for truth.  "Are you sure?"

She smiled thinly. "We don't have much of a choice."  Their eyes met. "And yes, I'm sure. I - I know her. After a fashion. She's not like the ones who kept me here."

Hawke saw him squint at her, brow furrowed, for a long moment, before he looked to the others silently asking them their thoughts.

"If Hawke says this woman is trustworthy, I say we go with her," Merrill said from Varric's right.  "Hawke is ill and needs more help than I can give her."  Hawke saw her eyes flit to the strangers on the other side of the room. "They could have killed us by now, but they didn't. I don't think they mean us any harm."

Varric's glance to Fenris and Isabela was answered with a curt nod and a hesitant shrug, signs of trust in his decision, whatever it might be.  "Well, thanks for that input," Varric grumbled, which made Hawke give a hacking laugh, the sound brittle but he was thankful for it anyway. “Did you say something about getting to safety, Commander?” Varric asked the stranger as he cupped Hawke’s chin in his hand, and watched her eyes start to go blank.  “She’s not going to last much longer.”

Hawke saw Shepard nod.  “We have a ship waiting off planet and shuttles to get us there. Can one of you carry her?”  Hawke knew that must sound so odd to her friends and she wanted to explain this world, these people, all of it, but didn't have the strength for it. Later. They'd have time later.

“I will,” Fenris and Varric said in unison, before having a small staring contest to see who got the honor.  

Hawke chuckled weakly at the two, ending the battle of wills.  “Varric, let Fenris help me this time.  I saw you favoring your shoulder earlier.”

Varric sputtered.  “Hawke, how-”

She put up a shaky hand to stop him.  “Questions later.”  She met his eyes and said in a low voice so only he could hear, “Especially about Anders.”  She watched him nod ever so slightly at that before raising her head to meet the commander’s eyes.  “I’m trusting you, commander.  Please don’t mistake my trust in this moment as trust in you completely.”

The woman nodded.  “I understand.  But we _will_ keep you and your friends safe. Again, you have my word.”

With that, Fenris helped Hawke to her feet and they slowly made their way out of the lab before Hawke stopped their progression.  At the end of the walkway, Hawke saw something that made her brain short out, and her wrath began anew.  

The blonde woman who had tortured her for weeks on end, who had smiled down at her with thin lips and a needle in her hand was just feet away, held at gunpoint by the krogan.  Like a swift punch in the gut followed by a moment of pure clarity, Hawke needed to know what it would feel like to cradle the face of that woman between her hands and dig her fingers into her brain for the answers lying within.  

If anyone would have answers, it was this woman.

With more strength than she was aware that she had, Hawke pulled free from Fenris’s arms and made her way towards the woman. Hands reached out to stop her, but they pulled back when they met flame - Hawke could burn when and if she wanted to - and she drew Kang to her, lovingly.  

Hawke paid no attention to the shouts and flurry of motion around her, her entire focus on Meredith Kang.  She embraced the smaller woman in her arms, the flames not burning her quite yet, but with a promise that they would soon. Hawke spoke in a soft, soothing voice, “What did you do to me?” she asked, needing to know. Her gentle tone was a mask for the fury within the very core of her being.

Kang refused to answer at first, staring in awe at Hawke.  When Hawke asked her question again, her voice not so soothing this time, Kang simply replied, “We made you better.”

With a growl low in her throat, Hawke dropped the woman to her knees and held her head between her hands a moment before she slowly pushed her fingers into her brain, seeking out the answers the woman was unwilling to give.  Meredith screamed as Hawke’s wiggling fingers melted her brain.  As she searched, she found the answers there, scattered amongst unnecessary information. Hawke plucked them out one by one and took them for herself.

The room was silent as Hawke pushed Kang’s body aside, her dried-out skull making a hollow sound as it bounced on the metal floor. Her comrades didn’t know what to make of her, and Shepard’s were more than a little wary of her afterwards. No one wanted to make any sudden moves for a long moment, startled and more than a little sickened with the whole debacle. Even Varric was uneasy with what had just happened.

They needn’t have worried.  Hawke was beyond exhausted at that point, her flames flickering weakly.  She could feel Fenris at her back, the only one able to touch her without getting burned.  As he took her arm gently, he in a low voice, “Hawke, you must stop.  You are ill and need to rest.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she whispered to him as she turned into his arms, trying not to see the wide eyes of Merrill or the look of shock on Varric’s face as he tried to come closer, only to be pushed back by her fire.  “Fenris, you don’t know what she did -”

He pulled her into an embrace then, muffling her words against the Cerberus uniform and said, “I know what it means to be a slave, Hawke.  I know torture and pain. You don’t need to worry that I am unable to understand.”  Hawke buried her face in his neck and heard him say, “But we need to leave here. Now.”

Feeling Hawke’s nod against his neck, Fenris lifted her easily. She felt dizzy, her ears ringing as she heard the commander call out orders to her team.  The world was too bright, and even though Fenris was trying not to jostle her, the motion made her entire body ache. She heard the hiss of doors opening, the sound of familiar and strange voices rising in terse conversation, and the roar of engines as she welcomed the blackness of unconsciousness.

 


	12. Chapter 12

_Six hours later_

"I'll leave this in your hands, Shepard, but make sure you get these people looked over thoroughly. We need to be certain they aren't a danger before we make any further decisions on what to do with them."

Shepard nodded. "Yes, sir."

He noticed her hesitation and said, “What is it, Shepard?”

Shepard leaned hard against the railing and said, “You know that phrase, ‘Waiting for the other shoe to drop’?” Hackett nodded and let her continue. “It seemed like the Illusive Man would put up a bigger fight than he did to protect this woman.”

Hackett raised an eyebrow. “From your report, you had quite a battle on your hands down there. What were you expecting?”

She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But we walked out of there fairly unscathed, just a few burns and bruises. And this whole business with Hawke being connected to a Reaper has me-”

“Worried. I know. But if she knows anything useful, now is the time to start asking questions. If anyone can help us right now, it may just be her. She could know something that could change the face of this war.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll make use of her in another way. But I’m not going to waste any potential resource. The Crucible is dangerous, too. But we’re building it anyways, Commander.”

Shepard nodded. “I know, sir. It’s just my gut talking.”

“And I trust your gut, but we have to take any advantage right now. I’m not saying we don’t proceed with caution, but let’s see what they know. Talk to her and her team. And let me know what you find. I’ll let you get to that, Shepard. Hackett out."

Shepard waited until Hackett's visage faded before letting out a sigh. _Shit_.

She left the war room to meet Mordin in the mess hall. "Updates on our new crew members?"

Mordin waved a hand at the doors behind him. "Still too early to tell, but transition between their world and this one did not appear to have any lasting effects. But will monitor for any future complications." He tapped a datapad in his hand, getting Shepard’s attention. “Fascinating physiologies, though. Elves, a dwarf, new human genetic structures to study. Utterly fascinating.”

“I’m sure,” Shepard said, fighting back a smile at his enthusiasm. “But I need you to focus on the genophage cure, Mordin. There will be time for that later.”

“Of course, Shepard. Would never neglect Eve or the cure.”

"Have they been given translators?”

He looked up at her, eyes bright, and nodded. “Of course. Let them keep own clothing, for now. No contaminants to be concerned with after decontamination before boarding the Normandy.”

“And they’re still under guard, I see.”

Mordin nodded, tapped at the datapad again. “Yes. Have been...reluctant to give up weapons, however. Understandable. Soldiers typically attached to guns most used on the field. Reasonable they would be the same, weapons simply different.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes at that. “How reluctant?”

Mordin shrugged. “Nothing dangerous, Shepard. Would never let them into Med Bay otherwise.”

She squinted at him, looked at the Med Bay where she could see Dr. Chakwas moving around their guests with rapid efficiency. But even from this distance, she could see the consternation on the good doctor’s face. Shepard started to edge around Mordin as the salarian chattered on about all the unique things he’d discovered about the five people she’d added to the Normandy’s crew. It was interesting, but not the information she was after at the moment.

Shepard held a hand up, stopping his steady jabbering as she neared the Med Bay. "And the mage, Hawke? How is she holding up?”

Mordin’s dextrous fingers flew over the datapad before he said, “As well as can be expected. Currently unconscious, pain from her injuries too extreme. Had to give her tranquilizers. Physically, will recover, vitals are good. Cerberus did not use standard torture methods.” He stopped, took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on Shepard. The sudden shift in his countenance, full speed to full stop, had Shepard pulling up short outside the Med Bay. “However, impact of connecting her to a Reaper impossible to determine. Dangerous, Shepard, very dangerous indeed.”

“Figured as much,” she muttered, shaking her head. The swell of raised voices just to their right had them both looking at the Med Bay windows and what Shepard saw had her punching the light on the door and rushing inside.

“Andraste’s freckled tits, there is no WAY I’m going to let this _nug-humping bastard_ take Bianca!”

Shepard saw Chakwas blink at the strange insult, but she soldiered on. “Sir, do be reasonable. We’re not going to hurt your...erm, crossbow. If you’ll just hand it over to Lieutenant Vega-”

Vega held out his empty hands in an almost pleading gesture and it looked like, for a moment, as though Varric might acquiesce. But the moment he smiled, anyone who knew the dwarf could have anticipated what happened next. He cocked his head, smiled thinly, and landed a punch square on the big marine’s jaw.

Vega’s knees locked underneath him and he toppled to the floor, eyes rolling back. Shepard darted between her nearly unconscious lieutenant and the man who had taken him down with one hit.

“Enough!” she bellowed, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. A quick scan of the room - Chakwas and the more dangerous looking of Hawke’s companions (the white-haired man and the dark eyed woman, both who had been quiet during their shuttle ride to the Normandy) to her left. They were wearing nearly identical looks of shocked respect aimed at the shorter man, but they didn’t appear anxious to join the fight. The other woman and the man who’d thrown the punch were standing near Vega’s listless body and an Alliance soldier on the other side of the room.

And Hawke was on the table behind all of them, eyes closed, covered to her chest in a blanket and connected to a heart monitor and a few other machines. Shepard shivered, a pang of sympathy for the woman hitting her in the gut. She hated those machines, reminding her too much of Cerberus lab tables and Miranda’s voice in her ears telling her to get up, move, run.

She quickly stepped between the Alliance soldier, who had drawn his weapon the moment the punch landed, and the other man. "Stand down, Price," she said, steel in her voice. "I'll settle this. Report back to your station."

Price lowered his gun, saluted, and marched out of the room, no questions asked. Shepard was thankful for that. She knelt beside Vega to check his pulse. "Never seen anyone take him down," she said. "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

The room was silent for a moment before Varric's cautious reply came. "I’m a merchant prince and a younger brother. That might not mean anything to you, Commander, but where we’re from, it’s a good way to get yourself poisoned at dinner or knifed in a back alley if you don’t know how to defend yourself.”

“Or locked in a Deep Roads thaig,” the white haired man muttered from behind Varric, making the woman standing beside him let out a throaty laugh that Shepard knew Vega would have appreciated if he’d been conscious. The other woman, the one standing beside Varric, simply widened her eyes and looked at him.

Shepard had to admit, she was curious what a “Deep Roads thaig” was, sensing a good story there. But she figured it could wait. Satisfied with the way Vega was blinking his eyes and groaning, Shepard motioned Chakwas over so the doctor could check on him.

She stood, brushed off her pants, and squared herself against the shorter man. Eye to eye, she could see the fire burning there, the strength in his frame as he gripped the weapon in his hands. _Christ, is that an actual crossbow?_ she thought as her gaze lingered on bow's dangerously glinting blade.

The silence stretched between them as she looked him over. Shepard figured this man - Varric, Hawke had called him - knew when someone was taking stock of him. He shifted his weight forward, likely an unconscious gesture against a potential threat, but he didn’t make a move toward her, content to let her stare as long as she needed.

“No, I understand that. Well, the part about needing to defend yourself,” Shepard finally said as she leaned back on a heel and crossed her arms over her chest easily. “I’m a soldier, been fighting for this damn galaxy for years. Hell, even died for it. So I get it.”

Varric’s eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly when Shepard mentioned dying. His companions all looked at her a little harder now and she realized that she still had full command of the room. “So why don’t we do some proper introductions, since we didn’t have a chance on the shuttles, and then we’ll see about settling this issue?”

Shepard walked up to Varric and put her hand out. “Commander Joanna Shepard, Alliance Navy. But it’s Shepard to everyone on this ship, the five of you included.” She gave him a knowing look. “I think I heard Hawke call you Varric.”

The glint didn’t leave Varric’s eyes but a small smile broke his face as he sheathed Bianca and took Shepard’s hand. “Nice to see handshakes are still common currency, Commander.” He dropped her hand and gave a little bow. “Varric Tethras, at your service.” He turned and motioned to the others with him. “These louts with me are the other members of Hawke’s crew.” He jerked a thumb behind him. “We call the broody, white-haired one Fenris.”

“What’s left of them,” Isabela whispered to Merrill as she watched Shepard shake Fenris’s hand.

Once the rest of the introductions had been made, Shepard wanted to sort out the issue with everyone’s weapons. She stepped away from them very briefly to talk into her omnitool. When she returned, she pulled out the spare chair from Chakwas’s desk and sat in front of the little group, letting the exhaustion on her face show. “I know these are your weapons. I understand that. They’re very personal, the tools you use to defend yourself and the ones you care about.”

She laughed a little, shaking her head as she stared at a point above Merrill’s head. “I fought with this one guy, Zaeed. Tough son of a bitch. Had a gun he named Jessie that he used for damn near twenty years and he told me the saddest day of his life was when he had to retire her.” The hiss of the Med Bay doors drew her attention and she turned in her chair, smiling slightly at the figure who appeared there.

She motioned him in and turned back to the group, ready to assuage their fears at the sight of a turian out of armor. She saw surprise and curiosity on their faces, but no fear.

“This is Garrus,” she said as he came to stand beside her. “He was with me on the planet we pulled you all off of. He was in full armor then, so you wouldn’t have -”

“He’s different, I’ll give you that,” Isabela said, cutting her off as she stood up. “But we had Qunari.”

“And an Arishok,” Fenris added.

“High dragons,” Merrill said.

“Abominations,” Varric said, which made he and Fenris exchange a look.

Shepard and Garrus looked at each other before Shepard said, “And just what does a Qunari look like?”

Isabela put her hands out to close either side of her head and said, “Grey-skinned, about six and a half feet tall. Horns.” She moved her hands out farther away from her head. “Or in the case of the Arishok, big fucking horns.”

Varric snorted. “You weren’t the one who almost got speared on those big fucking horns, Rivaini.”

“I think your conversation just got derailed, Shepard,” Garrus said quietly.

“Tell me about it,” she whispered back. She held a hand up and cleared her throat. “I asked Garrus to come in here so he could introduce himself and to bring me this.” Garrus pulled the gun from his hip and handed it to Shepard. She nodded her thanks and he stepped back to let her work, but his eyes never left her. She held the gun in front of her face for a moment, trailing her eyes over the metal body, the many scars and scratches on the pistol’s butt.

“This is the gun of an an N7,” she said. “The N7 program is a rigorous training program for only a small group of select soldiers. You start as an N1 and if you make it through all the levels, you earn the rank of N7.” Her eyes met Varric’s and she grinned. “The drop-out rate by N3 is 95.6%” She lowered the gun so they could see it better. “And they give you this gun when you graduate from the program. I’ve carried this gun ever since and the one time I didn’t have it on me, I spent two years dead and even after I was brought back, this gun found its way back to me.”

She nodded at their various weapons in sheaths and straps on their bodies. “Like I said earlier, I get it. But, I can’t have strangers wandering my ship with weapons of unknown abilities. For the safety of everyone.” Her gaze slid to Varric. “When you took my lieutenant down, he was only trying to store your crossbow for you. We’ll keep your weapons safe, I promise you that.”

Varric started to say something when Garrus stepped forward and pointed at him. “That’s a precision weapon, a crossbow?” His mandibles flared in a small grin at Shepard’s questioning look as he came closer to the dwarf. “Takes a good eye, a steady hand, and a hell of a lot of a patience when taking down moving targets.”

Varric nodded, reaching behind him to pat Bianca reassuringly. “Got it in one.” His eyes narrowed as he looked up at the tall frame of the alien approaching him. “Rogue?”

Garrus laughed. “Sniper. I’m guessing they’re similar.” He held a hand out. “Mind if I take a look? I promise to be gentle.”

Merrill sucked in an audible breath at Garrus’s request and Isabela patted her shoulder. “I don’t think Varric can punch him. He’d break a fist on those - err, whatever he’s covered in.”

“They’re plates,” Shepard said from her right. Isabela jumped and turned to see the commander standing beside their little group. “And yeah, he probably would break his fist. Garrus is hard as hell to land a punch on. I know, I’ve tried.”

“How did you sneak up on us?” Isabela hissed.

“I didn’t tell you she came over,” Fenris said. “You were too busy watching Varric.”

Isabela huffed. “Traitor.”

Shepard shot a glance at Fenris. “She always like that?”

Fenris snorted. “Unfortunately.”

“By the Creators,” Merrill whispered and that drew the others’ attention to Varric slowly unsheathing Bianca and handing her to Garrus.

“Well, it’s a start,” Shepard said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by the ever brilliant SpectreAntiHero and Jalice. I owe you both.
> 
> Huge chapter ahead - lots to do, lots to investigate, lots of ends to tie up and more to unravel. Some Shakarian smut/fluff inside as well.

“So, what do you do?”

Mordin turned his head away from his console and blinked at Merrill.  “In what way?”

Merrill looked him up and down for a moment before answering.  “Are you a mage?”  She leaned closer and laughed at his perplexed expression.  “No, I guess not.  I’d sense it.”  

He tapped a few keys, turning his attention back to his work.  “Not a mage.  Mages don’t exist here.”  He pursed his lips in thought.  “But neither do elves.  Interesting.”  His eyes darted to her, scraping over her form with clinical interest.  “Will have to explore further later.  Must focus on genophage cure.” And he continued to work.

Merrill watched him for a few moments and then gasped, making him whip his head around to glare at her.  “I know!  You glow in the dark.  The commander said you were a salarian.  I’ve never seen anything like you before.  And I’ve never seen anything glow in the dark except these little lizards we used to find in the caves outside camp.”  She pointed at his face.  “And you look a bit like a lizard.  I bet you glow in the dark.”

That made Mordin sniff.  “Do not glow in the dark.  Salarians are warm-blooded amphibians.  Lizards are reptiles.”  He put a hand to his chest.  “Scientist.  Work very important.”  He gestured back to Eve, who was on a bed near Hawke.  She’d been moved back to the Med Bay once it had been established that the new crew members weren’t a risk to her.  “Eve very important.”

Merrill looked at the female krogan solemnly.  “She looks so sad.  Is she ill?"

Mordin’s fingers paused on the keyboard at the sympathy in Merrill’s voice.  “Was very ill.  Getting better, still could relapse.  Must keep her stable.”

“What was she sick from, a plague?”

Mordin hung his head, remembering Maelon and his dungeon-like lab.  “In a sense.”

The Med Bay doors slid open and Liara came in, datapad in hand.  “Mordin, I have something for you.  A contact of mine just sent information he managed to download from the mainframes on Sur’Kesh.  It may be useful.”

Mordin took the datapad from Liara.  “Hmm, mostly notes on Yahg experiments but...a ha!  Some data on female krogans.  Very good.”  He smiled at Liara.  “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”  She smiled back and turned to leave but saw Merrill staring out the Med Bay windows.  “I’m sorry, we haven’t met.  I’m Liara.”

Merrill jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, her eyes widening when she saw Liara standing nearby.  “Oh!  I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - am I in your way?”

Liara softened her smile.  “No, I was just introducing myself.  I’ve met the others in your group, Shepard brought them around when she was giving them a tour of the ship.  But you weren’t with them.”

Merrill’s hands fidgeted with her belt and Liara noticed the nervous gesture, feeling sympathy for the woman’s anxiety.  But she remembered how jumpy she’d been just a few years ago and understood.  “No, I wasn’t quite ready for that.  And Hawke is here and I wanted to make sure someone she knew was nearby when she woke up.  I’m Merrill, by the way.”  Her eyes tracked Mordin as he bustled by, a stack of datapads in his hands.  “Besides, I like it here.  It’s quiet and he doesn’t seem to mind me.”

Liara fought back a smile.  “Yes, well I must admit I’m surprised.  Usually Mordin is very particular about his workspace.  If he hasn’t asked you to leave, he must not mind at all.”  They both watched the salarian as he darted from table to table, muttering to himself.  “Though, admittedly, he may not realize you’re here unless you walk right into him.  Mordin has a tendency to become completely absorbed in his work.”

“I noticed.”  Merrill cocked her head.  “He’s a bit odd, isn’t he?”

“He is, but most salarians talk and move quickly.  It’s just who they are as a species.”

Merrill turned her attention back to Liara, her green eyes scrutinizing Liara’s face.  “And you’re asari,” she said, letting the strange name drop off her lips.  “Are all your people blue?”

“Now, Merrill, what kind of a question is that?”

The dry, cracked voice, coming from the other side of the room, was barely heard by the two women but Merrill recognized it instantly.  She whirled and saw Hawke looking at her through slitted eyes.  The elf let out a noise of pure relief and rushed to her friend’s bedside.

Hawke patted the dark head that buried itself in her shoulder and tried to smile.  Her entire body ached but it wasn’t near the level of pain she’d felt when she’d first awoke after passing out in Fenris’s arms.  She’d been plagued by nightmares…..memories….remnants of lives not hers.  The Prothean’s face had flashed in her mind a few times, but most of it was just a jumbled mess of images.

_Images with pointed teeth and wires and empty eye sockets._

But the fire had been hers.  Fenris had held her while she burned until there was nothing left but darkness.

She’d had no idea what was going on and only remembered asking for help, pleading for someone to take the pain away and then a salarian with a horn missing had said something kind and stuck a needle in her neck.  She’d known bliss for a few brief, painless moments until it was all lost to the black.

“Might want to let me breathe, Merrill,” she said in a hoarse whisper to the pointed ear a few inches from her mouth.  “I did just wake up.”

Merrill quickly straightened, a fearful look on her face.  “Oh dear, I’ve already messed up, haven’t I?”

“No,” Hawke replied with a tiny smile, all she could manage.  “You don’t mess up, love.”

Merrill blushed and took Hawke’s hand in hers.  “Except when I ask if people are all blue.”

“To answer your question, yes, we are,” Liara said as she came up behind the elf.  Mordin was with her, datapad in hand.  She smiled kindly at Merrill.  “We’re known for our blue skin, in fact.”  She tugged lightly on Merrill’s arm.  “Let’s give Mordin some room.  We can find the others and let them know Hawke is awake.”  She met Hawke’s eyes and dipped her head in acknowledgement.  “My name is Liara, Hawke.  Shepard has put your friends in the secondary crew quarters.  I’ll make sure Merrill gets there.”

Surprised at the asari’s kindness, Hawke barely mumbled out a word of thanks before Liara was escorting Merrill out of the Med Bay.  “Give it to me straight, doctor.”  She put a hand up in front of her face.  “Will I make it?”

Mordin blinked, tapped his datapad.  Then, leaning in, he ran his omnitool over Hawke’s torso and read the results.  “Vital signs strong, no indication of any illness or lingering effects from Cerberus’s treatments.”  He looked down at her, his solemn face sobering her.  “Effects of being connected to a Reaper...unknown.  May need to do further testing when you are recovered.”  He patted her arm.  “Rest, Hawke.”  And he walked back to his workstation.

“He’s odd, but for a salarian, he has honor and integrity.”

Hawke angled her head to look in the direction of the new voice.  The eyes looked krogan, but the rest of the face was covered.  “And you are?” Hawke croaked out, unable to quell her curiosity.

The female krogan looked down at her, wide golden eyes not missing a single detail.  “Apparently, the savior of my race.”  She extended a hand, which Hawke grasped.  “You, my friend, may find yourself in a similar situation.”

Hawke took a breath to answer but wound up coughing, her lungs refusing to cooperate enough so she could respond.  When she got her breath back, she managed a weak, “My people don’t exist here.”

The krogan shrugged.  “If this ship is any indication, the human race is doing fairly well for itself.”

Hawke snorted.  “Not what I meant.”  She made a loose fist and raised it so the krogan could see the tiniest flicker of flame rising from her knuckles.  “I’m a mage.  I know those don’t exist here.”

“Then perhaps we find ourselves in similar situations.”  The female krogan stared at Hawke knowingly.  “You are here for a reason, my friend.  When the time comes for you to be called upon, you will know what you are meant to do here.”  She put a hand over her heart.  “I am trying to save my people.  I know what it means to be used for evil and put on a pedestal, sometimes all at once.  You will find your purpose here.  The strong always do.”

 

* * *

  
Shepard could feel the ache of battle and bullets and not enough sleep in her bones.  Vega was back on his feet, Hawke was awake, and she had a stack of datapads waiting on her desk. She called Traynor and EDI while in the elevator and let them know she’d be in her quarters.  After what felt like ages in that steel box, she was never so happy to see her door.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice purred from the dark room.

 _Nope, no sleeping here_ , Shepard thought as she grinned and locked the door behind her.  She could see him silhouetted perfectly against the glow of her fish tank but he hadn’t turned any lights on and he wasn’t moving toward her, so she was content to wait him out just inside the entryway.

“Is that how you greet a girl after a battle like that?” she asked as she kicked her boots down the stairs before making a show of rolling her shoulders and stretching.  

It was subtle, but he shifted ever so slightly against the tank.  She had him there.  “Well, I figured that after the ruckus down in the Med Bay, you’d be headed up here for a shower and some sleep,” Garrus said, his warm voice wrapping around her, “but if I can change your mind about that - “

“Oh, I’m definitely getting in the shower, big guy,” Shepard said as she whipped her shirt off and tossed it his way.  “Nothing sounds as good right now as a hot shower.”

That got him moving, earning her a new appreciation for how quickly turians could cross a room.  His bare hands on her skin guided her toward the bathroom, stripping her of her clothes in record time.  

Laughing, she started to reach for him but he pressed her up against the cold wall.  She shivered, sliding against the cool metal as his warmth trapped her.  He’d abandoned his armor and was down to his undersuit, so she could feel the shift of blunt and sharp plates bite her skin as he nuzzled against her.  “Any way I could change your mind?” he breathed in her ear, ungloved hands tracing patterns down her sides and waist.

She arched up against him, wanting the press of his mouth on hers but he denied her, tucking his head under her jaw to nip at her sensitive skin.  Shepard sighed and pulled him closer, hands searching for the hidden zippers and pulls on his clothing.

“So eager,” he said with a chuckle as his mouth moved down, tongue flicking out to trace her collarbone.  “Can I take that as a yes?”

Shepard pulled a hand away from his back and gently pried his visor off.  “What do you think, big guy?”

Mandibles flared in a grin, he traced a talon over a nipple and watched her eyes go dark before saying in a low voice, “One more question, Shepard.”

Shepard bit her lip as he did it again.  “I’m getting a little tired of all this talk, Garrus.”

“Humor me.”  He watched her fight with her own need for a moment before she stamped down on the glare she wanted to give him.  He raised an eyebrow plate, satisfied that she wouldn’t sass him right then, and leaned in to say directly in her ear, “So am I helping you to get cleaned up or not?”

A dozen scenarios flashed through her mind, each one more enticing than the previous, before she shoved him away.  “Not,” she said a little breathlessly.  

“Fair enough,” he replied, coming right back to her, hands on her shoulders to push her down the stairs.  “I’m not a big fan of showers anyways.”

One nudge had her sprawled on the bed, him looming over her.  “I think you have the advantage here,” she said, trying not to squirm too much as he stared down at her.  “How is this fair?”

“It’s not about fair, Shepard.  Not this time.”  His gaze was intense, hot as it focused on her body.  “Maybe it’s about what I want.”

 _So it was this game_ , she thought, fighting back a shiver at the way his gaze traveled over her.  “And what’s that?” she asked, willing to play along if it brought out this side in him.  Sometimes, the darker, harder-edged Garrus was exactly what they both needed and after today, she could stand to let someone else take control for a while.  

They were headed for the Citadel and by the time she dealt with the Council, Kaidan, a dying Thane, and whatever else got thrown at her, needing to figure out what to do with five people from another universe seemed like just another thing to check off her list of tasks.  

 _And it’s not about that damn list right now_ , she thought as he put one knee on the bed and leaned down, tantalizingly close.

“It’s about you,” he said, his voice no more than a low rumble.  “Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy, and I get to debauch her.  In every way imaginable.”

Shepard hissed at that, unable to keep from reaching out to him.  He took her hands and pinned them above her head.  “Don’t move.  You move, I stop.  Understood?”

She nodded and he waited for a long moment, blue eyes tracing her nudity - the slope of her shoulders, the curves of her breasts and hips, the lines of muscle in her thighs.  When he was satisfied she’d do as he instructed, he let go of her hands, parted her knees, and ran his tongue over the line between her thigh and hip.  The creative way she said his name as a curse while she fought to keep from bucking against him made him smile.

He did it again and she moaned.  The dark chuckle he let out against her slick flesh made her writhe, which forced him to pull his head up and look at her.  “Forgetting something, Shepard?”

“Son of a bitch,” she bit out, willing herself to still.  “You are a twisted mother-”

His tongue cut off her words, forcing her eyes to follow him as he licked trails over her skin - so close to where she wanted him, and he knew it.

She knew this dance, just like she knew the slower, sweeter ones when _he_ needed _her_ mouth and hands on him.  Or the times when they'd simply be together to forget, to get lost in each other for a little while so they didn't have to remember anything else but the feel of skin and plates and the sound of soft, low moans echoing in the cold air of her cabin.

She smiled as he nipped at her inner thigh, her hips bucking against his face.  “Tease,” she breathed out, hands searching for him as she forgot herself in the warmth of his breath and tongue on her.

“Shepard,” he growled in warning, hands pinning her hips back down to the bed.  “Behave.”

“Don’t want to,” she panted, curling a leg around his waist to draw him closer.  “Please, Garrus.”

She knew her begging was always his undoing.  He let her peel off his undersuit and pull him close.   He ran his tongue between her breasts and she arched against him, flesh pressing against plates.

_Please.  I need you.  I love you.  Take me._

It was in her eyes and in the low growl of her voice, even if she didn’t say any of it.  She said it with the curl of her spine, in the grip of her fingers as she held his hand.

It was in the way she breathed his name when he entered her.  And it was in the way they moved together, slowly at first, drawing little gasps from her and groans from him.  But the pressure and the need built and threatened to spill over.  He pushed on the backs of her thighs, lifting her legs, giving him room to move.

She let him do it, let him take over.  Her spine bowed and she felt him slide a hand under her to bring her closer. Their eyes met and she grinned, loving this side of him, all unfocused eyes and tightly tucked mandibles and plates so warm to the touch she thought she might burn from the contact.

The small sounds of pleasure he'd been making were growing louder, growls and groans winding up into tight sounds of need. Wanton. Burning. Etched with her name and a few curses and odd jumbled phrases she couldn't make out.  All said in that voice - god, that fucking voice that set her body on fire.

It must do other things to her anatomy as well, because he growled her name in her ear and said, "You keep doing that, this won't last much longer."

She shifted against him, getting as close as she could, and wrapped her legs around him. "Don't need it to last, Garrus," she said in a breathless voice, knowing she could let go at any moment. She wanted to watch him, needed to see him break apart.

He shuddered, body tightening in a way she instantly recognized. She reached up and trailed gentle fingers over his colony markings before pulling his head down and slanting her mouth over his.  Their hips met and she felt talons slide down her back.  She lifted her face so she could watch - she needed to see him fall.

The air left his lungs in a gust and he went rigid against her, moaning her name, eyes fixed on her.  His face at that moment was perfection - all the tension of war and death and so many lives resting on his shoulders gone.  There were few times when they could steal moments for themselves and she wanted to remember this exactly as it was.  How he looked, how he sounded, how he felt against and inside her.  

He looked like he didn't have any cares or worries. He simply existed in the stark, crystalline moment of pure pleasure that traveled down every nerve and expelled her name on his lips.

His warmth flooded her and her back arched, an instinct she didn't and couldn't stop.  She felt the black burst behind her eyes, brought forth by the exquisite implosion of bliss that saturated her body and blanketed her mind.  It was good, really good, but she was just happy to see him fall to pieces.  She could ignore the lingering throb of desire between her legs if it meant he was sated.

The world came back to her by degrees and the hot weight of him on top of her.  “Garrus,” she said in a half-whisper, “Garrus, you need to get up.”  He groaned in her ear, a noise of protest at having been woken up and she chuckled.  “I think you’re crushing me.”

“Impossible,” he replied, mandibles tickling her cheek.  “You’re the uncrushable Commander Joanna Shepard.”

“You need better adjectives,” she said, struggling not to smile as he pushed himself up on his forearms and looked down at her.  “Uncrushable is not something you call a girl after you just did that to her.”

His mandibles fluttered. “Oh, really?”  When she nodded, he thrust forward slowly, rolling his hips against hers and she bit back a moan.  “Would you prefer I find a better description for you, Shepard?”

“Keep doing that, and you can call me whatever you want, Vakarian,” she panted as he did it again.  

Something must have shown on her face, because he tipped his head back to peer at her, his blue eyes scrutinizing her with a look she recognized.  It was the same look he used when scoping down targets.  “You didn’t - Shepard, you didn’t - “

Shepard stroked his jaw.  “Hey, it’s okay.  And yeah, I did.  Kind of.”

He gave her a quizzical look.  “I don’t get it.”

“Remember that little lesson I gave you our first night about how human women can go more than one time?”

That got him smiling.  “Very fondly.  That was a good night, after the awkward parts where we weren’t sure what to do and I accidentally knocked over a whole bottle of wine.”

Her face softened into a grin.  “Uh huh.  Accident my ass, that was nerves, Garrus.  Anyways, sometimes we can get off more than once and sometimes, we don’t get to at all.  Just the act can be all the pleasure we need.”

His brow plates drew down in what looked oddly like vexation.  “Then why is your face still red and you feel like a furnace?”  He groaned then, ducking his head down to rest his forehead against hers.  “And you keep doing _that_ around me, and I’ve already had my fair share of fun.”

Shepard put her hand on the back of his neck and scratched lightly at his skin.  “So have I, Garrus.  It’s not always about getting off.”

She could see the fire in his eyes...hell, she could almost _feel_ how badly he wanted to put his hands on her knees and his tongue to good use between her legs.  But the hollowness of her voice must have shook something loose in his mind because he gently pulled from her and wrapped his arms around her waist before saying, “Then maybe now is a good time for that shower, Shepard.”

And she found she couldn’t argue with him.  Shepard tilted her head up and saw his blue eyes staring down at her, full of love and concern, and she simply broke.  As easy as it had been to let him command her in bed, it was just as easy now to let him bring her to her feet and lead her to the bathroom.

She felt warm and heavy, spent muscles and an exhausted brain weighing her down.  She didn’t even have her eyes open when the spray of the shower hit her hand.  “Thought you weren’t a fan of showers,” she said, willing an eye to crack open as the hot water bore down.

“Didn’t think you’d stay awake if I left you in here alone,” he said, pulling her close so her back was against his carapace.  Talons full of suds were soon massaging her scalp and she let her head fall back, knowing he’d catch her.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he chided her gently, hands moving down to caress her shoulders.  “I don’t know if I can handle a wet, slippery human.”

That made her chuckle, the sound drowsy but her eyes were open as she turned to face him.  “First I’m uncrushable.  Now I’m slippery.  Better adjectives, Garrus.  Get them.”

His eyes traveled down her body, clearly appreciating what he was seeing, then jerked back up again as he flared his mandibles in a grin.  “I can think of a few.”

She laughed softly.  “I’ll start with one for you - _degenerate_.”

He pulled her close again, spinning her so he could help rinse her hair, a set of motions that now came with ease.  “Ouch.  And here I was going to be nice and shower you with compliments.  And I’m pretty sure you’re using ‘degenerate’ as a noun, Shepard.”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug, her skin sliding against his plates.  “Blame my exhaustion.”

He took the hint and quickly finished washing the soap from her hair.  Garrus leaned down to press a kiss to her neck, hands moving to her waist and she couldn’t help but let out a groan.  Tired as she was, the spark of his touch still made her burn.  He chuckled in her ear and said quietly, “Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy.  Brave, determined, fierce, intelligent, beautiful.”  

“You’re a lucky turian, that woman sounds like quite the catch.”  

Garrus hit the faucet off with an elbow and grabbed the towels hanging over the shower door, wrapping them both up before responding.  He tucked a talon under her chin so she would look at him properly.  “She’s a hell of a woman.  And she deserves a lot better than a bad turian with scars over half his face.”

Her hand reached up and stroked his scarred mandible.  “I was always a sucker for men with scars, especially vigilante snipers with a penchant for…..” and her eyebrows rose suggestively, “ _calibrations_.”

Her laughter rang out over his groan and she stepped nimbly away from him as he grabbed for her.  “I’m going to bed, Garrus,” she said over her shoulder as she dropped the towel and slipped into an old N7 shirt.  “Get your ass over here and grab some sleep while you can.”

His towel hit the floor with hers and he found he didn’t care about wet towels or finding a clean suit to wear to bed.  He slid under the covers, wrapped an arm around her waist, and let her move around until she was comfortable.  Garrus knew she couldn’t settle into sleep without clearing her mind, so he waited for the inevitable thread of conversation she would start.  

He loved these things about her, things that no one else knew.  Some part of him felt like he needed to closely guard these little parts of her - the very personal, very human side of Commander Shepard that wasn’t on the posters or war effort vids.  That woman was a model, a figurehead to look up to, to aspire to and follow into hell and back.

The woman he held in his arms was human and real and sometimes very, very fragile.  She was blunt and quick to anger and ruthless but she was still human.  She could still break.

“I get the feeling sleep might be even harder to come by with these new passengers we’ve picked up,” Shepard finally said as she maneuvered into his embrace. “I’m up in four hours, but you don’t need to get up when I do.  I need to talk to them before we reach the Citadel.”  She stretched her legs beside his, smiling slightly as her back arched.  “Hackett wants to know their side of the story and I didn’t want to go prying at them right away.  Tends to make people jumpy when I do things like that, so I’ve been told.”

Garrus managed to contain his snort before saying, “What do you want to know?”

Shepard was quiet for a moment before she answered.  “If they’re dangerous, which I think they are.  If Cerberus did anything to Hawke that could make her a threat to us, to us winning the war.”  She sighed, her mouth drawing down in a firm line. “But if they can help us win this damn thing, maybe the risk is worth it.”

“Ruthless calculus,” he replied, squeezing her hip, trying to comfort her.  “I hate it too.”  They were quiet for a few long moments, the silence stretching between them but not pulling them apart.  His eyes slid to her and hers to him and then he said, “So how did you know Hawke’s name, back on the Cerberus base?  Something you’re not telling me?”

Shepard snorted.  “Vega, of all people.”  When Garrus raised a quizzical eyebrow plate, she relayed the story James had told her before they left the Normandy about Hawke and fairy tales and hot summer afternoons with his _abuelo_.

When she was finished, Garrus said, “That’s a hell of a thing, Shepard.  If these stories are so well-known, how have you not heard them?”

She shrugged.  “Spacer kid.  Plus, my mom wasn’t the storytelling type.  If she did tell me anything, it was about battlefield tactics and weapon mods.”  She grinned, but the expression had little emotion behind it.  “Mom and I may not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but most of what I know about war I learned from her.  From the best.”

Garrus let that comment go.  He didn’t want to get her riled up about her family, he knew talking about them for more than a few moments got Shepard tense and terse. “All right, enough talking.  I’m serious, go to sleep.”  

She smiled at him.  “What about you?”

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”  He drew her against him, holding her tight, and said softly, “Sleep, Shepard.”

It wasn’t the most comfortable position for him to lay in, but he waited until her breathing slowed and her body released all its tension before he shifted behind her.  He would sleep fitfully for four hours trying to not worry about the war, his home planet, his lost family.

And he had his own concerns about the people they rescued from Cerberus.  His gut was telling him that their part to play in all this was just beginning.  He didn’t buy into melodrama, didn’t see the need for it, but he knew The Illusive Man did.  And that rescue mission went far too smoothly for his tastes.

In his mind, they had just put the equivalent of a walking bomb on the Normandy.  And now they were taking it to the Citadel.

He closed his eyes and listened to her breathe, thankful to the Spirits he got moments like this.

* * *

 

Sleep.  They all told her to sleep.  But to Hawke, it felt like she’d been asleep for far too long.

She sat up and rubbed her palms on the slightly slippery fabric of the shirt and pants the kind human doctor, Chakwas, had given her.  The room was empty, save for Eve, the female krogan.  But she was asleep and Mordin had wandered off some time ago, ever-present datapads in hand.  She had heard him talking under his breath about something called the Shroud and a cure.

She felt twitchy and hot and her restless legs forced her down off the bed.  The world spun but Hawke closed her eyes and focused, breathing deeply.  She felt the pull of her magic creep under her skin and she couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t stop it because it felt so good just to have it back and not be burning out of control.  Whatever the commander’s doctors had done for her seemed to be keeping her in check, and Hawke was thankful for that.

But her power still felt _wrong_ , as though it wasn’t completely hers.  She knew of no real way to describe it fully and for one brief second, found herself wishing Anders was here.  Hawke opened her eyes and snorted derisively at herself, pushing the image of him when they’d met at the tear in the Fade from her mind.

_His eyes heavy with guilt and sadness, his hand absently scratching at his ever-present scruffy chin, an old habit she knew well after years in his company.  The feel of his body pressed up against hers, his lips forceful and needy.  Her disgust and shame and anger and loneliness all pushing back at him, driving her to push against him and press into him at the same time._

“Yes, because that’s just the perfect way to start your day, Hawke,” she said quietly to herself as she walked slowly to the Med Bay door, “shame and guilt and a weird sense of deja vu all balled into one.  Fantastic.”

She pushed a tentative hand against the green light on the door and nearly jumped out of her skin when they slid open and revealed a very large man on the other side.

Hawke backpedaled quickly, throwing up a fiery fist.  “Whoa!  It’s okay!” the man said as he put a hand out in supplication.  But he didn’t move toward her and Hawke lowered her hand to see he wasn’t trying to do anything at all.  The man had a piece of clothing in the other hand and he held it out to her.  “Lola - sorry, Shepard sent me down here to check on you.  She wasn’t sure if you’d be awake or not, so I was supposed to stop in every half hour.”  He extended his arm further.  “I brought you a hoodie.  It’s a jacket.  I thought you might be cold.  All these ships feel like meat lockers until you get used to them.”

Hawke narrowed her eyes at the fabric but when she looked up at his face, she could see the hesitation playing over his features.  She took a moment to study his warm eyes and the scar running from his right cheek to just over the bridge of his nose - he had an honorable look about him, but still young, still hungry for approval.

She watched him shift under her stare and she finally smiled.  “Thank you, messere,” she said, her voice still rough from lack of use and the chemicals Cerberus had pumped into her.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

He grinned, the corners of his mouth tugging up with a hint of sheepishness.  Hawke found herself charmed instantly, and she knew the dangers of being taken in by a nice smile.  “Lieutenant James Vega, ma’am,” he replied, and he held a hand out to her.

His grip was warm and firm, but he wasn’t trying to break her with his handshake.  Considerate, too, she thought as she smiled back.  “Zoey Hawke,” she said, “but it’s just Hawke, really.  Has been for years.”

His hand slipped from hers.  “Yeah, I know who you are,” Vega said as he pushed the jacket at her.  

She took it and turned it over in her hands, noting an odd insignia on the front of it.  But a glance at his shirt answered her unspoken question and a quick examination of the size of the jacket reinforced her suspicion that he’d given up an article of his own clothing for her.  “You do?  Well, that’s to be expected, I suppose.  My friends made quite the entrance.  Me, not so much, with the being tied down and held captive and everything.”

The smile dropped off his face, but his eyes hardened.  “Yeah, Hawke, those _pendejos_ are gonna pay.  Shepard won’t let Cerberus get away with what they did to you.”

The force behind his words startled her a little and she looked at him with shock.  “I - thank you, Lieutenant.  That's oddly reassuring to hear." She glanced at Eve asleep in a bed behind her.  "But surely the commander has other, more pressing concerns."

Vega shrugged, the noncommittal gesture steeped in the air of someone who took orders.  "I'm just a soldier. I shoot who and where they tell me to."  Silence fell between them for a moment until he waved a hand at the door and said, "Your friends are in the secondary crew quarters, if you want to see them.  Doc already let them know you were awake but the commander doesn't want them wandering the ship until she talks to them. But I can take you to them."

Hawke brightened at that, her lips widening in a smile that rocked Vega back on his heels.  "Yes, please. No offense, but after everything...well, I'm needing some familiar faces right about now."  

"No doubt."  He shot a pointed look at the hoodie she was twisting in her hands.  "You want help with that?"

Hawke's hands stopped twisting and the smile on her lips grew playful.  "I'd be most grateful."

"Yeah, I bet," he said under his breath, his hand going to the back of his neck as he approached her.  Gently, he took the jacket from her and held it up so she could tug it down over her head.

The fabric was well-worn, soft in places from multiple washings, and it smelled clean but with Vega standing so closely, she could definitely tell it was his.  Not just from the way it hung to her knees but from the smell - the tang of some kind of oil tinged with the tiniest bite of musk and salt and soap.  She could hear the gentle huff of his breath, the nervous shifting of his feet and she tried to reel back a smile, swallow the teasing line she had for him.

Hawke was a very perceptive, attentive person.  Not being able to pick out the assassin in the crowd from the boy about to steal your purse was an excellent way to get into trouble in Kirkwall. Or wind up very, very dead.  Highly attuned senses and years of time spent in the company of well-trained rogues had honed her ability to sense nerves from across a crowded square.

With Lieutenant James Vega just inches from her, Hawke could feel the waves of anxiety and nervousness coming off him.  She figured it would be easier on them both, for now, to leave the man be.

She smoothed the fabric down her arms and smiled at him.  "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Sure." He smiled back.  "And it's Vega."

Hawke plucked at the sleeve.  "Not James?"

He gave a short bark of a laugh at that.  "Not unless you want me to get shit for it.  Nah, Vega's fine.  Call me James around the wrong people and they shorten it to Jimmy." He rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  "And someone told me that sounds like the name of a uh..." He caught Hawke's amused gaze and coughed.  "Yeah, let's get you to your friends."

 

* * *

 

The way Hawke’s nerves frayed during the seemingly endless walk to the secondary crew quarters had her jumping at every sound, every odd movement.  Maker’s breath, she wanted to see them.  She wanted to brush the hair away from Merrill's face and grab Isabela by the shoulders into a hug  She wanted to sit beside Fenris and wait for him to smile in that slow manner of his.  She wanted to be near Varric so badly it made her ache to think of him.

But part of her was wary of how they’d react to her.  They’d seen what she’d become - a _thing_ , no better than a monster who put her fingers into people’s brains and took what it wanted.  She’d been made into this by men and women who sought nothing but power.  Hawke had fought so long against being used by others _because_ of her magic, had fought against being made a tool for nefarious purposes and now look at her.  She felt like a shell, filled with fire and anger, honed on a stone of power and malice that she didn’t understand and couldn’t think to control.

None of it was hers - no, that wasn’t exactly true.  The original power, the raw, untapped source of it all, had been hers.  It was why they were all here, it was why they had all been caught in this web to begin with.

_And you have yet to know what you can do._

Hawke’s eyes widened at the sudden intrusion in her thoughts and she stopped abruptly, whirling as though an abomination were behind her.  A crewman rounded a corner too quickly for her liking and she found herself immediately launching into a defensive position, a flaming hand thrown up in his terrified face.

Vega pulled her back, heedless of her overly warm skin, and gruffly shooed the crewman on his way before talking her down.

“Dios, Hawke, you gotta calm down,” he said in her ear, his warm, strong hands on her arms.  Her fire went out instantly and she felt shame color her cheeks.  They were just feet from their destination and he had been reaching out to open the door when she’d nearly taken an innocent down.

She didn’t want to tell him why.  Couldn’t explain how her own body felt like a traitor, as though her skin was about to get up and crawl away from the rest of her.  She might not be on fire, constantly burning, searing, lit up with agonizing pain, but in the back of her mind, it spoke.

Like a voice in the dark, terrifying and beautiful, it spoke to her.  Whispered to her the moment she closed her eyes and tried to let sleep claim her.  And now it was talking to her in her waking hours.  It called to her and she didn’t want to answer.  But she wasn’t sure how long she could ignore it.

Hawke shook her head, swallowing hard before turning her eyes toward Vega’s.  “I’m all right,” she said, gently prying herself from his hold.  “I’m sorry.  Would you tell that poor man that?”

He nodded.  “Yeah, no problem.  I know you didn’t mean it.”  He stared at her for a long moment.  “You’ve been through a lot, more than most.  I get it.”  Vega took a steadying breath.  “You ready?”

Hawke nodded and he hit the door command.

Four heads turned their way when the doors opened.  Hawke saw the joy in those familiar eyes, the smiles on their faces, but the fear and wariness she was expecting was not there.

It wasn’t on the face of Merrill, who had seen her earlier and was now twice as happy that she was up and moving about.  Merrill, who wrapped her in a gentle hug and whispered beautiful, comforting Elvish words in her ear.  Hawke nearly collapsed under the tenderness of it.

“You can’t just take her for yourself, you know,” Isabela said as she pried Merrill’s arms from Hawke’s waist.  Isabela’s face showed no fright, no hesitation as she peered closely at Hawke and said softly, “We were worried about you,” before crushing Hawke in a hug so tight Hawke wasn’t sure if her lungs would burst from the force of Isabela’s grip or the emotion welling inside her.

“Missed you, too,” Hawke managed to wheeze out, which made Isabela chuckle as the pirate pulled away.

“It’s kind of hard not to miss me,” she said as she brushed Hawke’s hair back.  But the joking words didn’t match the concern in her eyes.  “Hawke, I - we didn’t - bloody hell, we had no idea where you were or what happened.”  Isabela waved a hand around the room.  “And now this?”

Hawke laughed softly.  “Tell me about it.  But we’ll figure it out, we will.”

“Don’t we always?”

Hawke’s eyes closed against her wishes as that warm voice slid down her spine.  It was years ago and they agreed that they were not right for each other, but on very rare occasions, she found herself missing his touch.  Right now, Fenris’s voice was almost as good as the hand he placed at the base of her spine as he turned her toward him.

Her breath caught, lodged somewhere between her heart and her throat as his eyes raked over her, looking for any sign that something was wrong.  She knew that gaze.  

He’d used it so many other times when they’d rescued mages from slavers or the hands of blood mages but she never thought he’d turn it on _her_.   Hawke knew he was worried, it was evident in the hard set of his mouth and the tenseness in his shoulders and she just wanted to tell him it would be okay.  
  
All the words she had and all the things she wanted to do in that moment were lost on her and she defaulted.  Humor had always saved her in the past.  “Well, I’m always the one figuring out what to do,” she said, trying to smile at him, desperately wanting to shatter his hard gaze.  “Maybe one of you could step up this time?  I’m absolutely exhausted.”

“I can’t imagine why,” he said, the moment broken when a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  Hawke stifled a smile in return and for a short moment, felt like the world had been righted.  

“I never got to say thank you,” she said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “You saved me from - well, from myself back there  You kept me from hurting anyone else.”

“You’re welcome.”  His hand brushed down her arm and she flinched, her skin still too sensitive after being abused for so long.  Fenris withdrew his touch immediately, understanding lighting his eyes, and he turned her gently so she could see Varric sitting at the far end of the room, waiting.  “I think he didn’t want to interrupt the rest of us, but he’s been driving us all mad with his insufferable pacing for the last few hours.”

Fenris gave her a push toward Varric and when Hawke turned back, she saw him conversing with Vega.  Merrill and Isabela followed, though a bit reluctantly, and then the room was empty save for him.

Hawke knew exactly what she needed to do.  She crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed and wrapped him in a hug, smothering his surprised response into her shoulder.  He didn’t waste any time in looping his arms around her ribs and squeezing her gently.  Hawke rested her chin on his head and let out the breath it felt like she’d been holding since the Illusive Man had told her she’d never see any of them again.

They didn’t speak. They sat on the bed Varric had been given and held each other.  When she couldn’t take it anymore, she pulled back just enough to look at him.  “Maker, I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice choked.  “Do you have any idea how many times I thought you were-”

“I could say the same for you,” Varric said softly, his hand tracing over her cheek.

An uneasy silence settled between them and Hawke found she had so much she needed to tell him, needed to say to him, but couldn’t form the words.  She knew it was foolish to hope that her face and eyes alone were telling him everything she was trying to convey, but the look on his face right now told her everything.  He was looking at her like she was the world staring back at him and he'd been lost without her.

Emotions caught her and tossed her about and she broke.  The voice in the back of her mind whispered something to her about weakness and she choose to ignore it and it snapped at her, baring claws and teeth she didn’t know it had.

The ferocity of its response drove her into Varric’s arms.  He caught her, willing the tears in his eyes to not spill.  He didn’t want them to fall on her head where she would feel them drop on her scalp or run down the back of her neck.  She needed strength right now, because the flurry of emotions he just watched cross her face deeply concerned him.

Hawke was funny and smart and wiley.  Powerful and sometimes a bit scary, because she could burn so brightly.  But after what he’d seen her do to that woman, after he’d heard Hawke’s screams of pain and confusion and anger and watch her dig her fingers into a woman’s brain and hollow out her skull…

_Is this Hawke?  Or is it Hawke and someone else along for the ride?_

That was the only explanation he had for what he’d seen, the horrors in that room that had haunted his fitful sleep over the last few hours.  They’d been witness to the horrors of abominations and possessions over the years and Hawke - strong in heart and mind and never bending to the pressures and enticements of demons and blood magic - abhorred it all.

But as Varric looked at her now, he knew something was wrong.  As sure as Bianca’s aim, he knew Hawke wasn’t all right.  Fear gripped him in an icy panic and he tried to smile at her but he knew from the look on her face that he was failing miserably at comforting her.

“Varric,” she said, her voice gone rough from unshed tears as she pulled her head up from his chest, “I missed you.”

And he kicked himself for it, later when Hawke was pulled away for more tests and he was left alone with just his thoughts, but those words from her lips warmed him and pushed aside his worries for the moment.  Just for that moment, he saw Hawke again, the firebrand, the hero, the smart-mouthed, fiercely intelligent and loyal friend he’d known for so long.

The woman who had once kissed him with such abandon and then left him alone in his room like it had been nothing.

“Missed you, too, Hawke,” he replied, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

That caught her attention, his gaze focused on her lips.   _Of course it would, you dolt_ , he thought as he watched her bite her lower lip.   _Tease_ , he almost said, and instead went with, “So what now?  I don’t suppose we could just stay holed up in this room.”

Hawke shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.  “No such luck, I’m afraid.  They're in the middle of a war.”

"No rest for the wicked, eh?"

Hawke closed her eyes briefly.  "Not even when we deserve it."  She raised a slightly shaking hand to his face, pushing the loose hair away.  “And you’d think by now we’d have earned some rest.  They’re going to need our help, Varric.  I got us caught in this, I’m so sorry.”

Varric pulled her against him, quieting her.  “Stop, Hawke.  We’re the ones who ran through a hole in the Fade to get to you.  And we can’t go back, none of us can.  Looks like we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”  His gaze was determined as he said, “We can do this, Hawke.”

“There’s so much that you don’t know about this world, Varric.  It’s all so strange.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at that.  “Well, we’ve already seen turians, salarians, and one really big human.  Merrill was telling us about Liara, a woman with blue skin, and that commander?”  He winked at her.  “Don’t think I’d want to go up against her.  She’d take us all out with a glare.  Gives me the shivers just thinking about it.”  Varric tipped her head up and smiled.  “Plus, this coming from the woman who took out the Arishok in single combat?  I’m surprised at you, Hawke.  Such naysaying.”

Hawke gave a weak chuckle.  “The battle with the Arishok was hardly anything thrilling, Varric.  I spent a hour running around trying to not get impaled on his sword or his big fucking horns.”

“That’s not how I wrote it, Hawke.”

And that got her laughing, a real Hawke laugh, not the mimicry of one he’d heard a few moments before.  Hawke laughing while Varric held her was what the others saw as they walked back into the room with the commander in tow.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shepard said.  “But I need to get some information from all of you before we reach the Citadel.”  

 

* * *

 

“Are you going after her?”

The Illusive Man stared thoughtfully at the image on the screen in front of him for a few long moments before answering the man to his left.  “No need.  While the connection may have been severed prematurely, the operation was a success.”

“And Shepard?”

The Illusive Man’s mouth twisted up in a brief smirk before settling back into a hard line.  “I’ll let you know when Udina’s ready to make his move.  Your role in all of this is very specific, and I’m expecting results.  Shepard will do what she always does - get involved in the most violent way possible.”

The assassin nodded and began to walk out of the room, stopping only when the Illusive Man said,   “She has a weak spot.  The drell in the hospital on the Citadel.  Use him.”  He lifted a cigarette to his lips and smiled thinly.  “Don’t fail me this time, Kai Leng.  You know I don’t like to be disappointed.”

The Illusive Man waited until the assassin was gone before pulling up a small screen in the corner of his display.  It blinked, a simple orange light pulsing every few seconds.

His finger itched to trigger it but he knew better.  Patience, after all, was a virtue and he was a very patient man.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adding chapter summaries from hereon out because the story gets...complicated. Chapter 14, wherein a cure for the genophage is finalized; Shepard takes the Normandy to the Citadel and visits a dying Thane; Hawke and Thane meet; and Hawke runs headlong into resistance from the voice in her mind in ways she's not encountered before. Also, Garrus and Varric bet on who is the better shot, and Isabela and Merrill take in the sights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/1/14 - Chapter 14 has been slightly reworked, nothing major. My massive thanks to Jalice and SpectreAntiHero for their beta work.

Shepard hated that she couldn’t read Admiral Hackett’s face on a normal day.  The man didn’t flinch, didn’t waver at anything.  So the narrow squint he was giving her now was a little unsettling, like being stared at by a bull.  She wasn’t sure if he was going to charge or simply stare a bit longer.

“That’s a hell of a story, Commander,” he finally said, his image fritzing ever so slightly as the connection flickered.  “Hell of a story.”

“It’s everything they told me,” she replied evenly, trying not to let her own disbelief color her voice.  It had taken a couple of hours and a few pointed remarks from her to keep Hawke and company on track, but she’d gotten the story - Hawke’s disappearance from their world, how they tracked her down, and how they arrived in this one - out of them.

“All right, Shepard, but keep me apprised on this situation.  From what you’re telling me, this Hawke could be a real asset for us, or very dangerous.  Either way, if anything changes, you let me know.”

Shepard saluted the admiral’s image and his holo snapped to black.  She turned to Mordin, who had been part of the conversation per her request to provide the necessary medical feedback.  “Suggestions?”

“Still think medical equipment at Huerta Memorial our best bet, Shepard.  Will need to gather some supplies and data before can meet you there, however.  Data...troubling but still nothing solid.”  Mordin showed her the datapad in his hand and explained his findings.  Information on Hawke’s vitals from the last twelve hours scrolled across the screen and Shepard noticed an uptick in the woman’s temperature and brain activity while she was in a REM cycle.  Medical professional she was not, but even a soldier like Shepard knew that wasn’t normal.

A lot of what was going on wasn’t normal.  Even things that should be “typical” were going off the rails.  Her conversation with Hawke and her friends before they docked at the Citadel had gone pretty smoothly, at first, and then it took a weird turn.  The moment Varric mentioned a name - Anders - Hawke launched out of her seat, a wild look in her eyes, and raced for the door.  Shepard had been too taken aback to do much other than watch Varric jump up mid-sentence and put a hand on Hawke’s arm and murmur something to the woman too low for Shepard to hear.  Hawke had given him a pained look and a quick shake of her head.  And she didn’t come back.  

Shepard found out later that Hawke had gone down to the cargo bay and wound up watching Vega tinker with his weapons mods.  She was just thankful Vega was more than happy to keep an eye on the mage.  Shepard really didn’t want her wandering the Normandy without a chaperone.

But what she hadn’t gotten a clear picture of, was what Hawke had gone through at the hands of Cerberus.  Hawke had been unwilling to discuss it early on in the conversation, deferring to Varric as the group storyteller.  And once she’d walked out, Shepard knew well enough to not go after an upset woman, especially one who could sling fire and crush people’s skulls with her bare hands.

She’d seen the horrors of the lab on that moon, and knew The Illusive Man had machinations for using Hawke as some kind of Reaper control rod but….they had no real data to prove if the torture Cerberus put the woman through actually worked.  They also didn’t know what Hawke or any of her companions were truly capable of, and Shepard hated that, too.  But they couldn’t run sufficient tests in a contained environment like the Normandy, either.  

Unknowns were an uncomfortable truth in her role.  What was around the next corner could put a bullet between your eyes, so Shepard did everything she could to put tactics to use in her favor.  She always had a game plan, even for the most unlikely of scenarios.  Still, the inevitable unpredictability of every battle had long ago taught her to accept that there were certain things in the universe that you could never forecast with one hundred percent accuracy.  

Shepard was dreading this trip to the Citadel - in her gut, she knew she had issues to resolve.  She could predict how heavy her conversations with Thane and Kaidan would be, how the tiresome droning of the Council would get under her skin.  But she also needed to know - if Kaidan still thought her a traitor, if Thane was at peace with dying, if her new passengers had skills she could put to use.  

If her temper - and her heart - could handle all this grief.

So to the Citadel they went.  They were an hour out, tops, when Hackett had called, so she expected to be hearing from Joker any minute -

“Approaching the Citadel, Commander.”

Mordin cleared his throat and said, “Shepard, didn’t want to distract from issues with Hawke but must tell you - genophage cure is finished as well.  Should head to Tuchanka as soon as possible to resolve krogan and turian conflicts.  The Shroud still best option for disbursing the cure.”

Shepard was starting to look at the railing in front of the vid comm like it was a long lost best friend.  It was certainly taking her weight like one.  “Good.  We’re already at the Citadel, so let’s get things taken care of here and then we’ll head straight for Tuchanka.  Tell Wrex the cure is finished.”

Mordin nodded and left the vid room as Shepard responded to her flight lieutenant.  “Got it, Joker, thanks.  Set her down gently and put a call into Alliance Command that I need a cab to the hospital.”

“No problem, Shepard.”

Shepard switched channels and pulled up Garrus’s line.  “Hey, you got a minute?”

“For you?  Of course, Shepard.”  She heard the metal clank of tools come to a halt and then he said, “Something with our new friends, I assume?”

“Yeah, I need your help.  And bring Vega and Liara in on this, too.”

* * *

 

The hospital usually did a good job keeping the smell of antiseptic and blood out of the air.  And even with the constant, ever-burgeoning influx of patients coming through the doors, Shepard marveled at how clean the air still smelled.  

The doors to the hospital opened and her eyes went straight to the far left windows, where Thane had messaged he’d be waiting.  The message had come in just after they’d pulled Garrus off Menae but it was only now that she’d been able to get back to the Citadel.  

“You sure about this, Shepard?”

She looked back at Garrus and nodded.  “I need to see him.  So yeah, I’m sure.”  

His mandibles fluttered at her and he squeezed her shoulder, the only comforting gesture he dared express while in the presence of other crew.  “Okay, I’m going with Vega for supplies.  We’ll keep an eye on the other uh - new recruits.  Tell Thane hello for me.”

“I will, and thanks.”  She gave him a quick smile and then turned her attention to Hawke, who had been pressed against the elevator wall the entire time with a slightly panicked look on her face.  “You ready?”

Hawke nodded.  “If I must.”

Shepard’s eyes narrowed.  “Yeah, you must.  Mordin said one of the doctors would lend him some lab equipment so we can double check that you aren’t carrying around Cerberus or Reaper tech.  We have to be sure you’re not indoctrinated before I make you a permanent resident of the Normandy.”  She motioned Hawke forward and they both stepped off the elevator, Shepard not missing Garrus’s little chuckle as the doors slid shut behind them.

Shepard waved a hand in Thane’s direction.  “But while we’re waiting on Mordin to get here, I have to check on a couple of people, so if you don’t mind-”

Hawke took the hint.  “Of course, Commander.”  And she crossed the floor to sit on the far side of the windows, still in Shepard’s eye line but far enough away to at least give the illusion of privacy.

Shepard squared her shoulders and approached her friend.  “Thane.”

Thane’s head lifted and a small smile graced his features.  “Shepard.  I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

He rose as she came close and for an awkward moment it looked as though he wanted to embrace her.  Throwing caution, and her quietly bleeding heart, to the wind, she took his hand and pulled him into a hug.  “It’s good to see you, Thane.”  She was instantly enveloped by him - the slight buzz she always got from his skin, the smell of his leather coat, the smooth feel of his face against her neck.  

In another life, maybe they could have cared for each other as more than friends.  But in this one, in Thane, she had found someone who understood her instinct to take down targets, to fight, to kill.  They’d talked about it for hours.  The only difference between them was that he saw an end to it all where she was fighting by the skin of her teeth to keep it all on track, to keep everyone alive.

Thane stepped back after a moment, eyes blinking rapidly.  “I was hoping you’d gotten my messages.  I know communication has been difficult after the attacks on Earth and - “ He took a breath and Shepard could hear his lungs straining for even that simple intake of air.  “It is good to see you as well, Shepard.”

Shepard smiled and he returned it before she nodded to the chairs behind them.  He was quiet for a few moments after they’d sat and she waited him out.  “I was worried, when I heard the Reapers had hit Earth,” he began, looking at her with that singular focus she had become used to.  “I knew the Alliance had you imprisoned there and when the reports came in….well, I was concerned.”

Shepard looked down at her hands for a moment, trying to push away the memory of shuttles exploding over her head as she watched Anderson run back to the soldiers on the ground.  “I appreciate it, Thane.  But we’re going to get back there, get this done once and for all.”

That made him chuckle, a wet, raspy sound that made Shepard narrow her eyes at him in concern.  “I wouldn’t believe it coming from anyone else.  But you, Shepard, you will see it through.”  His hand shot out and grabbed hers, his warm fingers not as strong as they used to be, but the fire in his eyes captured her.  “I am near the end of my life.  I want you to know what you’ve done for me, for Kolyat….it means more than I can express.”

Shepard tried to shake off the impact his words had, but it was like trying to shake off a blow to the kidneys.  “How much longer do you have?”

That made him crack another smile.   _I’ve never seen him smile so much in such a short amount of time_ , Shepard thought ruefully.  “My favorite doctor gave me three months to live, nine months ago.  It’s freeing to find no requirements placed on me.  No responsibilities.  No fears.”  His eyes caught hers.  “It is a good end to a life.”

Shepard slowly dropped his hand and he allowed it so they could both settle back in their seats.  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“At times.”  Another rattly breath escaped his lips, but the one he took in didn’t sound as bad this time.  “The oxygen transfer proteins don’t form correctly.  Your human equivalent would be hemoglobin.  But I suspect you don’t want to know all the gory details.  Suffice to say that the further the disease progresses, the harder it is for me to breathe.  And the less oxygen I take in, the harder it is for my body to function.  The amount of damage done to my organs and brain is, well, incalculable at this point.”

“And the doctors can do nothing?”

Thane gave a one-shouldered shrug, a careless gesture that spoke of a man who knew his fate and was completely at peace with it.  “There is no cure for Kepral’s.  And the doctors here do what they can for the pain.  One of them made some inquiries into research being done toward a cure but I suspect that stopped after the Reapers invaded.  And at this point, I am too far gone to be a viable candidate for a lung transplant.  The disease would just ravage the new lung as well.”

Shepard blew out a breath and leaned forward, her forearms on her thighs.  “Not to make any less of the situation, Thane, but this sucks.”  She waved a hand at the window.  “This whole thing - the Reapers, this damn war, the turians and krogan playing politics with me in the middle?”  She turned and let him, for the first time ever, see the sorrow on her face.  “You dying is one more reality a small part of me doesn’t want to face.”

He mimicked her posture so he could look at her.  “I was dying months ago when you blew your way through Nassana’s guards to recruit me.  What is so different now?”

“That same part of me didn’t think we’d make it back from the Omega 4 relay.”

Silence filled the space between them before Thane let out a laugh like she’d never heard.  “It’s probably a good thing you went for the impassioned, fiery speech before we went through that relay, Shepard.  I think that kept many of us alive as much as our belief in your abilities did.”

Disbelief flickered over her face for a moment before she cracked a smile.  “Bullshit.  I had the best team on that damn ship.  Even if most of you were crazy, criminals, or a mixture of both.”

“Very true.”  Another cough stopped the conversation.  Once he gained his breath back, Thane jerked his head toward Hawke, who was avidly watching ships dart to and fro in front of the large glass windows.  “Who is your friend, Shepard?  She looks, hmm...different.”

Shepard ran a hand over her face.  “Oh, there’s a story for you.  Give me a minute and I’ll bring her over.”  She stood and went over to Hawke, who was so lost in watching the ships that she didn’t see Shepard approach until the commander’s shadow hovered within view.  “Follow me, Hawke.  Thane wants to meet you.”

 

* * *

 

Hawke followed Shepard silently until she was in front of the green-skinned man.  His large black eyes traveled over her, taking in her fire red hair and pale complexion.  She could feel his gaze absorbing the smallest of details about her and she knew immediately that this was not a man to be trifled with.   _Assassin,_ she thought, noting the way he moved smoothly toward her, lithe muscle and graceful power contained behind black leather.

But something about him was off.  She could feel the air around him heavy like a fog.  Her eyes narrowed as she tried to suss out the problem - but without touching him, she could only sense faint disturbances in the energies he was giving off.  Sickly yellow and blue, his aura pulsed weakly and she wondered what had happened to this powerful, potent man.  Differences in appearance aside, Hawke knew true lethality when she saw it.

_What would he look like in battle?  A force to be reckoned with, I would bet.  Lethal and silent, like a knife in the dark._

“Thane, this is Hawke,” Shepard said by way of introductions, cutting off her thoughts abruptly.  “Hawke is a….visitor from another world.”  At Thane’s raised eyebrow ridge, she stammered for a moment and finally settled on, “Like I said, it’s a long story.”  

Shepard’s omnitool lit up and she looked down at the message.  Her eyes darted over the readout and then she flicked it off, looking at Hawke.  “Mordin will be here shortly, Hawke.  Do you think you can wait here with Thane while I go talk to someone else?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, Shepard,” Thane replied smoothly.  "Go talk to your friend.  She’ll come to no harm while I’m here.”

Shepard smiled at him.  “I appreciate it, Thane.”  She turned her attention to Hawke.  “When Mordin gets here, he’ll want to run more tests, so just go with whatever he needs to do.”

Hawke bristled at being told what to do, like a child, but she bit down on the sharp retort that instantly grew on the end of her tongue like a poisoned barb.  She had to remember that the commander was trying to help her and Maker knew she probably needed all the help she could get.  “Well, so far he hasn’t asked me to do anything terribly humiliating and he hasn’t hooked me up to anything dead yet, so I’m game for doing what he asks,” she said.

Shepard looked sharply at her.  “Mordin’s a professional.  He'd never do anything unnecessary to you.  His priority is making sure that you have no connections to the Reaper Cerberus had you hooked up to and to scan you for any traces of tech we might have missed.  The Normandy isn’t equipped with all the medical gear he needed, so that’s why you’re here and not out sightseeing with the rest of your crew.”  She jerked a thumb over to the doors behind her.  “I’ll just be back there.  Vega gave you a short-range communicator, so if you need something, use it to call me.”

Hawke’s hand went down to her pocket and she pulled out the small black box. “Got it.”  At Shepard’s frown, she smiled brightly, trying to fake some levity into the situation.  “Commander, I think I can handle myself until the good doctor makes his appearance.”  She made a shooing motion in the direction Shepard needed to head.  “Go talk to your friend.  I’ll be here with your assassin.”

Shepard’s eyes widened at Hawke’s slip but she nodded and turned on her heel, leaving the mage and the drell to stare at each other.  

Hawke waited until Shepard had passed through the far doors before breaking the silence. "Zoey Hawke," she said, gaze lingering on his face.

Her outstretched hand was firmly grasped as he replied, "Thane Krios."

“I’m guessing your status as a killer isn’t well known,” Hawke said, taking the seat Shepard had abandoned.  

“It’s not.  And you’re rather observant for someone who is apparently a stranger to our world,” Thane replied slowly, as though he was trying to gauge her with his words.  Something like cautious approval had sunk into his demeanor.  That, or whatever was causing him to be in his current state kept him from maintaining a cool distance for too long.  “But I’m not as concerned about my status now, only in the way it affects my family.”

“Understandable.”  Hawke watched him fold his hands in front of his chest and take a deep breath, and then she heard it.  A wet rattle as he breathed in, shaky and loose as he breathed out.  Hawke could almost smell the illness in him at that moment.  But he didn’t finish exhaling as a cough, lung-deep and eye-watering, drew him into a near crouch, almost taking him to his knees.

Hawke was immediately at his side, one arm wrapped around his back to steady his body, which was rocking with the force of his cough.  

She closed her eyes and focused, drawing on her magic to steady her and hoping that nothing would go awry.  It bothered her that this man had to suffer.  If she could give him even a moment of painlessness, she would share what she could.

Like she had countless times before, Hawke _pushed_ her magic out, green and healing and calm.  It left her and touched Thane like a gentle hand at his back, warmth sinking into his flesh and calming the inflamed tissues beneath.  His coughing ceased and after a long moment, his head lifted.  He was breathing hard, the air entering and leaving his chest still sounding like the clacking of bones in one of those damn Wounded Coast caves she’d hated so much, but his face didn’t look pained.

“What - what did you do?” he asked, wonderment in his voice.  “It doesn’t hurt nearly as much.  The doctors haven’t been able to give me anything to lessen the pain like that for quite some time.”

But Hawke was unable to answer.  The moment her power had touched him, she had felt a pull, like a hand in her chest.  Its cold fingers were wrapped around her heart, just waiting to squeeze.  

**_We will not be used in this way.  He is weak.  The weak are useless to us, so they die._ **

Hawke let out a wordless growl, slamming her hands on the floor and looking up at Thane.  She was already very tired of this voice talking to her, using her like this.  She was not some pathetic blood mage, given over to the thrall of a demon. She was stronger than this but the voice....it had power, influence. And worst of all, it felt as though it was so deeply buried in her mind that no spell, no force of will would cast it from her.

And Hawke feared that more than anything else.

"I am not using you," she said in a low voice, fighting her body's urge to tense as the voice pushed back against her. "That power is mine. You cannot have it.  You will not use it." Her head shot up and her eyes met Thane's. "You cannot use me."

_**You have no choice in this. You are a part of us, a part of the collective. We will command you as we see fit.** _

_**  
**_Black flashed in Hawke's vision and she shook her head to clear it, but that only made it worse. Her chest was too tight, her heart beating so rapidly she thought it would burst.  Heat scorched her throat and in her blurry vision, she saw flames ignite along her arm. __ **  
**

"No," she whispered, and drew back rapidly, pinwheeling her limbs to get herself clear of Thane and anyone else who might be too close.  The voice in her mind screamed and her heart was squeezed and her eyes stung but she was not going to hurt anyone else. She refused to make victims of innocents.  She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the crowded hospital as possible.

But her plan was thwarted.  Her other arm was grasped firmly and the world spun as her back was pressed into the wall. "I would advise against flailing around the hospital with a limb on fire." The humor in Thane's voice ebbed away and he blinked slowly at her before turning his gaze to her face.  "I do not know what you struggle with, but I understand what it means to be haunted." He stared thoughtfully at her for a long moment before saying softly, "It seems you have a choice, Hawke. You can fight, and hope to have the strength to wrest control back. Or you can give in."

Hawke looked down at her arm, burning brightly, and felt for all the world like she was torn in two.  She curled her hand into a fist, closed her eyes, and made a choice.

 ** _We cannot be thwarted, Hawke.  We are gods among ants, and you cannot hope to stop us.  You cannot stop the harvest._**  

Hawke ground her teeth and slammed her fist into the wall as a growl of pure frustration escaped her throat.  "I refuse," she whispered through cracked lips.  "I refuse to be used like this  -"

**_To us, you are a tool and nothing more. No life is sacred, it is all part of the collective.  Like you are. We cannot be stopped._ **

"I've fought worse," she said with a humorless laugh as she opened her eyes.  "Try me and find out."

**_Your bravado serves you ill, Hawke.  We will be watching._ **

The voice snapped out and Hawke was left to stare at the black of Thane's eyes as he studied her. His grip on her shoulder had not loosened but his posture had relaxed.  Words of apology formed on her lips but he slashed a hand through the air and cut her off.  "I expect your life has not been an easy one. I can understand that. But what you struggle with now, I confess I've never seen anything quite like it."

His gaze flicked to her now extinguished arm, then back to her face.  "I feel as though I owe the woman who granted me a brief respite from my pain.  Do you wish to talk about what just happened?"

Hawke shook her head, thankful to find it murky with only her own thoughts.  "Well, who am I to turn down the willing ear of a handsome assassin?  I've met a few in my time, and most of them offered me their bed, but never their ear.  I must be losing my touch."

Thane chuckled dryly at that and released his grip on her.  "My ear is worth more to you at this point.  I doubt there is much to find attractive in a man not only dying, but slowly shutting down, organ by organ."

A subtle kind of sadness shadowed Hawke's face for a brief moment at his words, but it passed as quickly as it had appeared.  "I'll make you a deal, then," she said, spotting Mordin rushing towards them out of the corner of her eye.  "Our friendly neighborhood salarian doctor is about to come over here and pull me away for Maker knows how many hours of tests. I could use some company. You can tell me about your thrilling disease and I can regale you with tales from a magical place called Kirkwall, filthy, stinking city that it is.  We'll laugh, we'll cry, and we'll be better for it." She cocked her head and smiled at him.  "You did say you didn't have anything better to do."

Thane bowed his head, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  She may not be willing, or able, to discuss what just occurred, but it was obvious she needed a friendly ear.  He was more than happy to keep her company.  "I did indeed."  He waved a hand forward.  "Shall we?"

 

* * *

 

Varric whistled low as he watched Garrus point the barrel of the sniper rifle down and raise his head.  “I have to admit, I’m impressed.  You’d make a damn fine rogue with that sharpshooting.”

Garrus opened his eye and swiveled his head to stare down at the shorter man.  “I’m guessing that’s a compliment.”

Varric hooked his thumbs into the green sash around his waist and grinned.  “One of the best I can give.”  He thrust his chin at the gun.  “So that’s what counts for a weapon around here?”

Garrus raised an eyebrow in response, flicked a talon over the trigger to put the safety on.  He reached down to press the button for the target line, waiting for the quiet mechanical whir to die down before speaking.  “Modded it myself.  You won’t find a better one.”  His gaze turned challenging.  “You want a go?”

Varric’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.  “You’re going to let me handle your weapon?”

“If you want.  But I’m proposing more.”  Garrus’s tone turned teasing.  “Of course, I know how attached you are to that - erm, what did Shepard call it?”

“Bianca.”  The word was bit out as Varric’s eyes went flinty.

“Right, right.  Bianca.  But I think she called it a crossbow.”  Garrus rested the butt of the gun on the floor and leaned forward slightly, hawkish blue gaze fixed on the dwarf.  “I got that right, didn’t I?”  That gaze burned but Varric met it.  He’d seen worse.  “So, want to trade?  I’ll admit, I’m curious how a crossbow fires, what it feels like when it kicks.  I’ll let you try out my gun and I get to - “

“You want to handle _my_ weapon?”  The words were hard but there was a thread of humor at their edges.  “That might be a problem.  Bianca is a one-man kind of a girl.”

Garrus’s mandibles fluttered.  “Afraid of a little competition, Varric?”  He leaned closer, his voice gone soft.  “Afraid she might like being handled by someone with a….lighter touch?”

Varric had trouble not dropping his jaw or laughing in surprise at the turian’s bravado.  He gave Garrus another appreciative look-over before saying, “All right.  You’re on.”  His mouth quirked in a shit-eating grin.  “But let’s make it interesting, shall we?”

Garrus cocked his head.  “What did you have in mind?”

Varric rubbed his hands together.  “Where I’m from, we like to lay down a little money on who is the best shot.  Since I have no money that’s worth anything here to speak of, I say we drink for it.”  He raised his eyebrows in challenge.  “Unless you’re chickenshit.”

Garrus gave him a sidelong glance.  “You’re lucky I know what that means, since Shepard has a fondness for saying things like that.  And no, I’m not,” and his hands came up to make air quotes, “chickenshit, as you so aptly put it.”

Varric spread his hands out in front of him.  “Then bring it on.  We’ll see just who the best marksman is, Scars.”

 

* * *

 

“Now _that_ is quite the view.”

Merrill sighed and leaned over the railing.  “It is very pretty here.”  She watched a few skycars buzz past them, their colored paint blurring in her vision.

Isabela clucked her tongue, prompting Merrill turn to track the pirate's subtle jerk of her head.  The elf's eyes grew large as she alighted on the grey t-shirted form of one Lieutenant James Vega.  Her dark brows drew down in question and Isabela just smiled. "Oh, yes.  It is very pretty here indeed."

The two women watched as Vega bartered with a munitions seller.  As he haggled, hands moving in quick slashes, face contorted in a mixture of expressions while he talked, Fenris came to stand beside the marine.  Isabela let out a small sound of longing at the sight the two of them made, dark against light, the wire-taut, whiplash figure of Fenris next to the titan powerhouse that was Vega.  

Isabela felt her face grow hot as she watched Vega show Fenris a couple of small firearms and she desperately wanted to go over there, partially because she was curious about this world’s weapons but mostly because she just wanted to be near all that male power.  It was intoxicating from this distance but that close….Isabela shivered at the thought.

“So I take it you fancy him, too,” Merrill said thoughtfully as she observed Isabela observing the two men.

Isabela glanced at her through dark eyelashes.  “Kitten, I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t fancy that man.  I might doubt the Maker’s existence every now and...well, all the time, but if I ever needed proof of him, that great hulking form of a man standing next to Fenris is it.”

Merrill giggled, stifling it with a hand.  “He is rather, erm, large, isn’t he?”  

“Yes, he is.”  Isabela let out another sigh.  “I wonder how quickly Hawke will want to kill me if I start flirting with him now.”  She looked at Merrill.  “And where is Hawke, anyway?  I thought the commander said she’d be bringing her by.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  Merrill shrugged, turning her attention back to where Fenris and Vega now were, a few booths down and haggling over what looked like small bombs.  “I thought she was having more tests run.  You know, with Doctor Solus.”

Isabela shook her head, eyes casting downward.  “Shit, that’s right.  I think part of me wants to forget that Hawke went through hell and back.”  The hand she was resting on the railing tightened in a fist.  “If I ever get my hands on those bastards that messed around with her-”

“I get the feeling you’ll have to get in line,” a voice interrupted from behind them.  They turned to see Liara approaching them, a bag from a nearby store slung over her forearm.  “I overheard Vega other day promising Hawke that he and the commander would be making Cerberus pay for what they did.  So I’m guessing you aren’t the only one who wants a little revenge, Isabela.”

Isabela slumped against the railing.  “She’s my friend.”  Merrill cleared her throat and Isabela corrected herself.  “Our friend.  I think we get first dibs.”

“Maybe Hawke should get the first blow,” Merrill said quietly, hands going to her belt.  Liara watched her fidget and wondered if this nervous habit only happened when she had to talk about things that made her uncomfortable.  “I mean, she’s the one who was kidnapped and tortured and….I think she should be able to do whatever she wants to them.”

“She might not want any revenge at all,” Liara said as she came to stand next to Merrill.  “Victims of torture don’t always want to seek out their own brand of justice against the ones who hurt them.”

“Bullshit,” Isabela said, but there was no heat in her words.  She tried to refocus her attentions back on Fenris and Vega, but her mind was now full of razor-sharp thoughts, images dripping like the point of a needle - deadly, toxic.  “You don’t know Hawke like we do.”

Liara set the bag down so she could look at the two women properly.  “Do you? At the stunned looks on their faces, she softened her tone.  “You knew Hawke as she was, in your world.  But what she’s suffered, what she’s still dealing with, it could all change her.  It could be changing her now.  She’ll need her friends to help her. I may not know her, but I understand pain.  Loss.”  She dropped her eyes.  “I know what it’s like to lose part of yourself.”

Silence gathered around them and after a few moments, Liara picked up the bag and placed a gentle hand on Merrill’s arm.  “Let’s pull those two away from whatever poor shopkeeper they’re hassling and find something to eat.”

Isabela put a dramatic hand on her stomach.  “Yes, let’s do that.  The food you have on that ship is disgusting.  I want beer and pie.”

“Pie?”

Isabela laughed as she slung an arm around Merrill’s shoulders.  “Yes, Kitten, pie.  If I can’t have one of those two sexy men right now, then I’m taking pie as a close second.”  She winked at Liara.  “You see, pie is like molten sex….”

 

* * *

 

Hawke grimaced at the small scanner in Mordin’s hand.  “Is this really necessary?”

Mordin nodded once.  “Yes.  Scanner can find smallest amounts of any leftover toxins, poisons, or other chemicals from Cerberus.  Will help in your treatment.”

She sighed, eyes cutting a hard right to Thane as he sat in the corner.  “You don’t really have to stay for all this.”

He raised one eyebrow ridge at her comment but didn’t move otherwise.  “I was promised stories from your life.  I’ve shared some of mine, it is only polite that you return the favor.”

She sighed dramatically but gave him a small smile.  “Point taken.  All right, fair is fair.”  She was cut off momentarily as Mordin had her turn to face him.  This put her directly in Thane’s line of sight, where he could watch her face as she spoke.  In the short amount of time he had spent with Hawke, Thane had noticed that she had an unusually expressive face, even for a human.  Shepard typically kept her features guarded, her emotions held in check behind a wall that broke only around the right people or in the appropriate situations.  But Hawke - everything showed on her face, even unconscious feelings and thoughts.  It was all reflected in her green eyes and across her wide mouth.  

The scanner was placed over the top of her head, where it hovered, whirring almost silently as it did its job.  Mordin moved back around the table to a bank of computers where he could watch the results scroll across the screen.  It wasn’t complete privacy, but it was as close as they would get for now.  Hawke waited until she felt reasonably comfortable to begin speaking.  “Where would you have me start?  It’s quite a long tale, rather boring in some spots.”

“I doubt that.”  He gestured with two fingers at her bare upper arm.  “Perhaps the story behind that?”

Hawke didn’t need to look down at the scar, now white and smooth with age, to know what he was referring to.  “Ah, that...well, I’ll have you know I had to work really, really hard for that scar.  It was quite the battle, with lots of blood and great feats of heroism.  But that’s the end of the story.  I assume you want to start at the beginning.”  

At the amused quirk of his mouth, an expression that made her inexplicably pleased, Hawke continued.  “You see, Kirkwall was where my family and I wound up but it’s not where we were from.  Kirkwall is a walled city surrounded by water, so if you shipwreck there, you’re stuck until you can find passage back out.  But the qunari didn’t want back out.”  She smiled at him.  “They wanted something that had been stolen from them and they were going to stay in Kirkwall until it was recovered.  And that’s where I came in.”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Thane come to an understanding, and Mordin stumbles across some disturbing information about Hawke. Now Shepard has to make a tough decision that could change the face of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite possibly the hardest chapter to write. The story is technically on hiatus, I'm dealing with an injury that makes typing extremely difficult. I do have plans to finish this story but it may take me much longer than I anticipated. If you're still reading/waiting on updates, I apologize profusely and I appreciate you hanging on. My deepest thanks to Jalice for her amazing beta skills.

When Mordin finally released Hawke, Thane followed her out of the room.  They both heard Mordin muttering to himself, which left Hawke with unease twisting in her stomach.  She swallowed hard and began to turn so she could go back and ask Mordin about what he found, but Thane stopped her.  “He will let you know what he’s discovered, I imagine after he’s talked to Shepard.”

Her brows drew down in concern and her pace slowed as they walked back to the front of the hospital.  “And if it’s bad?  What then?  What will she do to me?”

Thane shook his head slowly.  “Shepard is not a dictator, Hawke.  She will not turn you away if you need help, nor will she execute you if she believes you to be dangerous.”

That stopped her cold.  “And what if I am?”  She looked at him, eyes full of worry.  “If I am dangerous, I don’t want to be anywhere where I can hurt others.  That includes the commander, her crew, and my friends.”  She shot a desperate look out the window to where skycars flew by.  “I shouldn’t be on that ship.”

His warm hand grasped her shoulder as he turned her to face him.  “I do not think Shepard would put anyone under her command, including your friends or yourself, at risk if she believed you posed any real harm.”

Hawke didn’t look relieved to hear that.  Distress was evident on her face as she replied, “I know what a good leader should and shouldn’t do.  I’ve found myself more than once in a situation where I was forced to make a call or risk the lives of those I cared about.  Shepard might be forced to - forced to make a decision she doesn’t want to.”  She ran a hand through her hair, hissing when her fingers hit a knot.  A sound of pure aggravation rose from her throat and she yanked on the offending strands.  

She clearly didn’t want to discuss what was truly bothering her, or wasn’t sure of it herself and Thane wasn’t one to push.  He snapped a hand out to stop her as she tore into the snarled knot in her hair.  Hawke didn’t argue as he wrapped his hand around hers, but her eyes nothing more than narrow slits as she glared at him.  “Stop, Hawke,” he said soothingly, and Hawke felt very much like the wounded animals Merrill was always bringing back with them from their trips to Sundermount and the Wounded Coast.  Injured, thrashing, confused, and needing someone to take care of them so they could be released back into the forest or along the coastline.

**_You are not injured.  We have made you strong.  You have just not yet been tested properly.  We have overlooked your ability to recover.  We will rectify the situation soon._ **

“Shit, shit, shit,” Hawke said as she tried to tear out of Thane’s grip.  “Not here, not again.”

Against his better judgment, Thane held on.  She fought against him for only a moment before going boneless.  He gripped her elbows to keep her upright and when he looked down at her face, he saw fire in her eyes.  The promise those flames held - _death and fire and the end of things.  All yet to come, all at the hands of a woman never meant for this world and you’re mere inches from her_ \- stunned him into momentary silence before he could find his wits again.

“What demons haunt you?” he asked in a low voice, lips near her ear.  “Is it Cerberus?  What did they do to you, Hawke, to make you burn like this?”

Hawke turned toward him, her eyes defiant, her hands shaking in his as she said, “They hooked me up to a Reaper and pumped me full of things that messed with my magic.  I can’t explain what it feels like, this power.”   

She stared down at where her hands rested in his, words forming on their own and casting themselves from her lips as though she had no control over what she was saying.  But it felt so good to finally speak of it to someone, anyone, that she didn’t care how reckless it was.  “The fire is…like nothing I’ve ever had in my possession before.  I’ve always been a firecaster, a mage who deals in the elementals, and I know some healing.  But what they did to me only made my power feel stronger.  Better.  But it’s like I have no control over it at times, it just appears, reacts to any little movement or threat.”  She stared back up at him.  “Like it’s not me wielding it, that I’m just the passenger and my body is being used for its magic.”  

He held hands steady in his, mind reeling with implications, as he said, “Have you told anyone about this?”

She shook her head.  “And say what?  Help, I might be conversing, magically, with the enemy?  I know I’m not possessed, I know what possession looks like.  Your world doesn’t know of such things.  But the power, the pull of it, the way it speaks to me….” Hawke scoffed and tried to pull away from him, but he held firm.  She blinked as his black eyes bore into her.  “What would you have me say, and to whom?”

“Start with Shepard,” he answered, his hands squeezing hers.  “Explain it, carefully and fully.  Have Mordin there as well.  And a friend, someone you can lean on if the conversation becomes difficult.”

She smiled wanly at him.  “Can I have you there?”

That earned her a smile in return, though this one genuine.  “Unfortunately, no.  I am still a stranger to you, Hawke, and while I’m sure Shepard would like me back on the Normandy, as she’s told me as much, I don’t think I would be of any use.”  He let his hands slip from hers.

Hawke instantly felt guilty.  She had just spent the last couple of hours with this man, in intimate company with him, talking, listening to him, and she nearly forgot that they had just met that afternoon.  She could see why Shepard liked him so much, trusted him as easily as she did.  And she felt a creeping sadness overtake her as she remembered him telling her about how he was dying.  She wasn’t sure why, but it was hard to look at him, standing so still in front of her, and think of him as nothing more than a shriveling husk of what he once was.  

She’d felt like this around others before, people from her years in Lothering who had lived down the lane from her, whom she’d known all her life.  And she’d had an instant connection with Varric.  

Sod it all, the evening after he approached her and Carver, he’d invited her to the Hanged Man for drinks.  After too much whiskey  and several hands of cards, she wound up slung over a chair in his suite, laughing herself to tears over his stories while her staff sat in a corner of the room, the air between them filled with something that was set on a slow burn.

_She’d never been so unguarded in her life around a man, until Varric, but there was something about the copper-haired dwarf that put her at ease.  “All right, you have to be cheating,” she had said as she threw another hand down.  “There is no way you can be winning again.”_

_Varric chuckled, watching Zoey Hawke glare at him from under several strands of red hair.  It was slipping out of the knot on top of her head after a long day of pounding the pavement, looking for work, and he had just been thankful to catch up to them before she and her shitspit brother decided to rejoin the Red Iron or something else equally stupid._

_Thank the Stone for informants like Caleb.  Varric made a mental note to send the kid another sovereign.  Caleb had been pretty congenial about getting his tongue knocked into his teeth as part of their show for Hawke this afternoon.  But Varric kept a smile to himself about that as he gathered the cards back up and shuffled.  “I don’t know what game you thought we were playing, Hawke, but last I checked, it was Wicked Grace.”_

_Hawke grinned at him.  “I was never very good at that game.  But last I checked, Varric, you have to play with at least three people.”_

_He shrugged easily.  “It’s a modified version of the game.”  A gloved hand stopped shuffling to wrap around the neck of a nearby whiskey bottle.  “Drink?”_

_Hawke waved him off.  “I’m good.  Just deal the cards and you can teach me this modified version of Wicked Grace.”_

_Varric poured a healthy dose of whiskey into a relatively clean glass and threw part of it back before dealing four cards to Hawke.  “Well, I don’t play for nothing, Hawke.  And if we’re getting into business together, partner,” he said with a grin on his face, “I say we play for a little something.”_

_“Oh?”  Hawke peeked at her cards, raised an eyebrow at Varric in challenge.  “What little something would that be?”_

_“Typically it would be money.”  Varric glanced at his cards, set them back down.  “But since I don’t want to sully our relationship with coin, how about -” and he shook the whiskey bottle at her._

_“You want me to get drunk with you?”  Hawke’s voice was laced with disbelief._

_The smile on his face sent a spike of heat down her spine.  “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”_

What she and Varric had was forged on the blood-soaked sands of the Wounded Coast, the filthy back alleys of Lowtown, and in the quiet dark of his suite at the Hanged Man. It was in years of jokes and conversations and nights of drinking and cards and long days of fighting side by side. It was in surviving the worst they could imagine, doing it again the next day, and trusting that when the dust cleared, they'd both still be standing.

But now this was something else.  Hawke knew better than to trust implicitly, especially a man who had made a life's work of killing for hire, but he was.... _something_.  He didn't know her, nor she him and Hawke sure as hell didn't believe in coincidence, fate, or the deus ex machina Varric loved to put in his stories ("It makes the unwashed masses happy," he'd told her on more than one occasion).  So whatever this pull was she felt towards Thane, it had to be from a place of commiseration.

Of understanding.

Who she had been, that was gone.  Some part of that person still lived, in the place and time where Hawke remembered how to be funny and wiley and true.  But now her world consisted of dark things.

_Blackness and death and a voice that wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace._

Thane seemed like a man who understood darkness.  He’d implied as much during their conversations that afternoon and while she may not know him, she could sense within a serenity that she envied.  But she knew it was a hard-won peace that he had sought after decades of ruination and sorrow.  That, he had told her - she filled in a few of the many holes he’d left in his story.  But taking creative, if not intelligent, liberties with a storyline was a skill of Varric’s she’d picked up long ago.  

And she was in desperate need of anyone who could find some kind of level ground with her.  She didn’t want to forge through the dark alone.

Hawke was staring hard at Thane, trying to find the words to thank him.  But they didn’t find their way to her, so she settled for taking his hand back and squeezing it.  The small smile on his face warmed her.

“I feel so stupid right now,” she said quietly as he watched her.  “I’m trying to find the right words to give you my thanks and they’re not coming - “

He waved her off.  “No need.  I find helping others is a comfort not just for those I’ve lent assistance to, but for myself as well.  It’s good I can give back now, after all that I’ve done to darken the world.”

“You should give yourself more credit, serah.  I certainly do.”

The smile didn’t leave his face.  “You don’t know the whole story.”

“I’d like to.”  The words were out of her mouth faster than she had time to think about them, but there was no regret on her part.  If he was surprised at her boldness, his face showed no emotion.

 _In for a sovereign_ , she thought with a touch of that old Hawke levity, and used their clasped hands to draw herself into him.  Her lips sought his cheek and she heard him breathe in a little more deeply as she lingered longer than what would be considered polite.  He didn’t seem to mind.

When she pulled back, the black depths of his eyes never left hers as he said, “You’ll find your peace, Zoey Hawke, but it will not be an easy journey.  If you ever need someone to talk to, you can send me a message.  I’m sure Shepard or someone on the Normandy can show you how.”

It was the kindest goodbye she’d ever heard, and she took that to heart as she watched Shepard and Mordin walk quickly toward them.  “I’m sure I’ll take you up on that, Thane.”  She squeezed his hand one more time before letting go.  “Thank you, for everything.”

“My pleasure.”  He stepped back as Shepard and Mordin approached.  “I’ll take my leave,” he said, turning on his heel.   

Shepard watched him go, a question Hawke wasn’t ready to answer in the commander’s eyes when she looked back to her.  “Mordin has some results for you, Hawke,” Shepard said.  “You might want to sit down.”

Mordin nodded.  “Compounds from Cerberus meant to augment powers and help you connect to Reaper.”  At the horrified look on Hawke’s face, he added hurriedly, “Compound didn’t fully work, you resisted.  The Illusive Man wouldn’t have liked that.”  He sniffed, and it almost sounded like a laugh to Hawke.  “Connection to Reaper not fully formed, according to brain scans, but brain scans troubling.”  He turned a datapad to Hawke so she could see the colored images.  “Abnormal activity in the frontal lobes signifying lack of rational decision making, susceptibility to suggestion higher than normal .”  

Shepard ran a weary hand over her face.  “What are you saying, Mordin?  Hawke is hallucinating?”  She turned a piercing gaze onto the mage.  “Is that what made you hollow out Kang’s skull?  Were you seeing things?  Or was it revenge?”  She held up a hand. “I’m not judging, Hawke, because if you’re ill, we’ll get you help.”

“And if it was revenge?” Hawke asked in a subdued tone.

“Then I understand it.  But don’t make a habit of it.  I don’t have room on my crew, on my ship, for people at the mercy of their own justifications.  We’re trying to fight a damn war.”

“It was both,” Hawke admitted, staring down at her hands and recalling the fire that had burned there.  “I remember feeling rage.  And fire.  And there was a voice -”  

**_You will not speak of us to Shepard.  The time is not right._ **

Hawke let out a gasp as pain racked her body and black exploded behind her eyes.  She hunched over in her seat then toppled to the floor, and Mordin rushed over to see to her.  Mordin’s hands fluttered around Hawke’s body, but for the first time Shepard could ever recall, the salarian scientist looked lost.  

Shepard stood swiftly, hand on her sidearm as flames rose from Hawke’s hands.  But the woman’s head stayed down and as Shepard circled closer, she could hear Hawke whispering to herself.   Whatever she was doing wasn’t working, because the flames only grew brighter.  Shepard started to move closer, bracing herself for an attack, when Thane appeared at her side.

“Stay back,” he ordered before moving toward Hawke.  Unconscious of her fire, Thane knelt beside the mage and began speaking to her in low tones.  “Hawke, I need you to hear me.  You must fight.  You already made the choice, now you must see it through.”

Hawke gasped for air and pulled her head up to look at him.  Through the red and orange haze of her fire, she saw him staring calmly at her.  “I don’t know how,” she choked out.

“I can teach you.”  His hand came to rest on her leg, one of the few places the fire hadn’t spread to.  “But you must calm your mind first.  The fire is yours, no one else’s.  No one else can take it from you, or use it.”  

His gaze bore into her and she felt him pulling her toward him with just his eyes.  “My body was used as a tool, a weapon, and I slept for many years.  I didn’t realize what I was missing until my wife, and then Shepard, awoke me.  Now I am too late to correct all of the mistakes I’ve made and I must make my peace with that.  You cannot afford to do the same, Hawke.  Stay here, with me, in this moment.  In this now.”  

His voice tugged on something in her mind and she felt the Reaper hit back, hard.  And caught in the middle, she pushed back with everything she had.   _You will not take what is mine_ , she thought with a fury that startled her.  Her nerves sung, her back arched to the point of pain, but Hawke knew she could hold on just a little bit longer when she saw Thane nodding ever so slightly at her.

Pressure built in the room, Shepard’s ears popping as it rose.  Hawke’s hands scorched the floor tile.  Mordin and Shepard could only look on as Thane kept talking to the woman on fire in a slow, steady voice.  “Stay here, Hawke.  Fight.  You must fight.”

Like the pulling of a plug from a drain, a rush of air and heat blasted them right as Hawke growled, “I will not be used like this!”, and the flames were extinguished as she collapsed on the floor.

Thane was right beside her, hands cradling her face to shield her skin from the cold tile.  Mordin rushed over with medi-gel but Hawke said, “No, don’t,” and weakly waved him off.

Her eyes were watering, her face pale, Hawke struggled to a seated position as Thane helped her.

Shepard’s gaze flitted between Hawke and Mordin, her gun still out but lowered to point at the floor. “What the hell was that?”

Mordin’s datapad beeped and the salarian held it up to see the readout.  “Hmm.  Brain activity in the frontal lobes spiked.  Blood pressure and temperature well above normal but going back down.”  He looked back up at Hawke.  “Reaction to stimulus caused by questions about incident with Cerberus scientist.  Interesting.”

“Interesting in a good or bad way, Mordin?  Because from what I just saw, that was bad,” Shepard said tersely as she watched Thane drawing Hawke’s attention to him and away from her conversation with the salarian.   _Good, maybe he’ll distract her_ , she thought.

“Unsure,” Mordin replied as he scrolled through the readout on the datapad.  “Clearly an aggressive response.  Hawke's magic augmented by Cerberus, chemical compounds used by Cerberus and connection to Reaper destabilized her control.  Aggression now heightened, Hawke unable to fully control impulses or magic."

He knelt near Hawke, peering closely at her face.  "Outbursts suggest Hawke is hallucinating.  Makes sense, with overactivity in frontal lobes, after effects of torture, post traumatic stress, but... No visible signs of indoctrination, no brain activity showing foreign presence.  Physical, possible mental, connection to Reaper unknown variable.  Could be beneficial, but huge calculated risk, Shepard."  

He looked up at the commander.  "If Hawke has some connection to Reapers, may be able to use it against them.  Would take more tests, mental training, would require intense supervision.  Hawke shown to be unstable, but could be asset."  He took a deep breath.  "But only a theory.  Would need more initial testing, in a controlled environment for better results.”

Shepard's stare never wavered.  “Controlled how?”

“Somewhere to test Hawke’s reactions to certain stimuli, determine response times, gather data.”  He tapped the datapad again.  “Battlefield simulator would be optimal.”

Shepard snapped her fingers.  “I know just the place.”  

She made a mental note to send Kaidan another bottle of whiskey for letting her know about the biotic training simulator the Alliance all but abandoned once the war with the Reapers started.  He confessed to her, with a guilty grin, that he’d been using it in all his free time while recuperating to build his strength back up.  “If the doctors ever hear about this, though, I’ll deny it,” he had told her after they’d cleared the air.  “So keep it to yourself, okay Shepard?  I don’t want to get in trouble days before they let me out of here.”

“Looks like you’re not quite done with the tests, Hawke,” Shepard said not unkindly as she helped Thane get the woman to her feet.  She'd mentally process everything Mordin had just rattled off later, in the quiet dark of her cabin when they were on the way to Tuchanka.  "Think you’ll be ready in a few hours?”

Hawke nodded.  “I’m not...wasn’t a violent person by nature, Commander.  If this is the result of Cerberus’s experiments, then it’s the albatross I’ll wear but I refuse to let it drown me.”  She smiled thinly.  “Even when it feels as though my mind is splintering in a thousand different directions, my magic is mine.  I just need to find a way to keep it under my control, and not at the behest of another.”

Shepard shot Mordin a concerned look.  “Did you check for triggers, tech, anything the Illusive Man could have hidden in her?”

“Yes, four times.  Nothing embedded anywhere in her body.  Likely rescue mission interrupted whatever Illusive Man’s ultimate plan for Hawke was.”

“My thanks for that,” Hawke said, “if I haven’t told you already, Commander.”

Shepard inclined her head toward the woman.  “You’re welcome.”  She turned to Thane.  “I think we all owe you a debt, Thane.  If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know if we could have talked her down the way you did.”

“I can guarantee you wouldn’t have been able to,” Hawke said, and Shepard didn’t miss the gratitude in Hawke’s eyes as she looked at the drell.  “Seems Thane and I share an understanding.”

“And what’s that?”

“Darkness,” Thane replied evenly as he stared back at Hawke.  

  
  


* * *

 

Several minutes later, Shepard was staring at the back of Javik’s head, trying to patiently wait out the Prothean.  The comments from Hawke and Thane, and Mordin's findings, had disturbed her enough that she felt the need to seek out Javik, who hadn’t been on the Citadel long before retreating back to the relative familiarity of the Normandy.

If anyone could tell her what was going on inside Hawke’s mind, it was him.  But Javik had been avoiding her since the incident on the Cerberus base and Shepard had been distracted enough that she didn’t have the time to track him down (corner him, really) and ask him about it.  Liara had tried to pull information from him to no avail, so Shepard figured now was as good a time as any.  

Seconds of silence passed before Shepard finally said, “Javik, I don’t have a whole lot of time here.”  When he twisted his head slightly to look at her, she continued.  “I need to know if you saw anything when you touched Hawke.  We’ve taken her to Huerta Memorial for tests and Mordin found no signs of indoctrination, but that doesn't make me feel any better.  We'll be heading to Tuchanka soon to disperse the genophage cure, and I can’t afford any surprises right now.  Any insight you have would be helpful.”

Javik straightened, putting aside the gun he’d been tearing apart when she’d walked in, and finally turned to face her.  Shepard hadn’t known the alien - and she could use that word in its purest form with Javik and not feel like a racist - long enough to know him remotely well, but anyone could see the flash of unease that crossed his face at the mention of Hawke’s name.

“I do not wish to speak of it, Commander,” Javik said curtly as he moved around her to a nearby stack of crates.  

“I’m not giving you a choice, Javik,” she said, crossing her arms and staring him down.  “I tried asking nicely, but that was really a formality.  What did you see when you touched Hawke?  You read me easily enough and that was through my armor.”

Javik’s hands stilled on the lid of the crate he was trying to open and his eyes fixed on Shepard.  “Death.  That is what I saw.  Death and fire and the deeply confused and pained mind of a woman who has been touched by the Reapers.”

He abandoned the crate to stand in front of Shepard and she felt his next words like punches to her solar plexus.  “You may win your war, Commander.  I believe you will be victorious against the Reapers but it will be at a high cost.”  His yellow gaze pierced her, held her in place.  “This Hawke?  She may try to fight back, she may even succeed for a time.  But no one can win against the force of the Reapers when they are trying to take over your mind.  She will lose _her_ war, Shepard, and it will be the greatest loss in yours."  


End file.
